Tonight is the night

These boots are made for show

 

Written by an indignant hand,

More dignified than mine

 

Thin as wire, quick as fire

Quick as swallows backward in the night

 

A peacution freeze

In the midnight breeze

 

And to that wretched end,

We sold our souls

 

New beginnings, novel readings

Mindless mercies

 

You’re never too old to be told

A fragment concludes the given jest

 

Older persons know what to do, when to do it

And it is best done slowly than not at all.