In mynd's eye there's a letter I mean to send
but since heaven forfeits whoever it forbids
and writing is not a sin,
this bloody letter
iron rich as the rise of society,
is mailed if in word alone is mailed.
Change the rules and dress up names
maim commonality or at least make lame
and after wringing capital paragraphs to thunderous applause
we all clap and jingle our change.
Down the lane
the dapper dressed walk in unison swinging their canes
dipping quills in pitch black ink wells.
Splendor's reckoning comes as a heart wind terrible to behold
and we cease to feel the wisps of wind that sometimes soft
dance across your face on a hot summer's day.