Saturday 31 December 2011

The All

The snow falls like a dying mind
– And who is good and who is kind? –
As lost to all external touch
I search for meaning overmuch.
The night is like an empty purse
– What is bad and what is worse?

Losing purchase in the dark
– God save us all, God save the mark –
I find my bedrock in a sort
Of coldly abstract legal thought,
But from the street there comes a cry
– “Who are you and Who am I?”

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© January 1981