A Star Mangled Spanner

 

On a quiet November Thursday

A different time unsealed

Staring out uneasily

Unclear what then revealed 

 

Dynamically, it seemed as though

Something odd we didn’t get

Had turned up unexpectedly

A circus twist reset

 

We stared agog with wonder

Struggled hard for clarity

At the size of many painted folk

Demanding more prosperity

 

A place to be misunderstood

Where law was second-guessed

To wealth’s self-preservation

Leaving have-nots unaddressed 

 

A Man came into a Wood one day with an axe in his hand and begged all the Trees to give him a small branch which he wanted for a particular purpose. The Trees were good-natured and gave him one of their branches. What did the Man do but fix it into the axe head, and soon set to work cutting down tree after tree. Then the Trees saw how foolish they had been in giving their enemy the means of destroying themselves. - Eliot/Jacobs Version