Richard Pierce

Life, Poetry, Politics

Day 262

THE COUNTRY FALLS

The country falls
Silent. Christmas Day
On a Monday
In September.
The nation mourns

The hundreds of thousands
Dead from covid,

The excess deaths caused
By underfunding the
National Health Service,

The carnage of high
Energy prices,

As the clouds are chased
South by the wind
From the freezing north,
The icy showers falling
On hunched shoulders.

The country falls
On its knees
Before the guilt
Of centuries of
Slavery and pomp.

But that’s not the truth
In these hours of
Forced silence and
Obeisance. Any
Voice is persecuted.

The country falls.
There is an empty
Chest of gold
Called tradition
That’s bankrupt.

The country falls.

 

AGGIE’S ART OF HAPPINESS – CHAPTER 214

 

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