Fall Back

 

The clocks have gone back; Here comes Winter.

The clocks have gone back to the 1930’s.

Cold comfort colours, a siege down the Legion,

old soldiers shields for murkier manoeuvres.

 

The clocks have gone back; Here comes Winter.

Once again it’s OK to say “send ‘em back.”

Chunks of sunny time flutter dying through branches

Where we built our kids’ futures like wendy houses.

 

Here comes Winter, so get a decent coat

made of ideals.  Confront the hateful chill

of drip-fed rage and forage in forgotten books.

Kindle fires for chapped lips.  Build a makeshift boat

 

for unquestioning floods from whipped up storms

and then some.  Wrap up warm

in giving beliefs, share compassion,

pink eyes stinging with callous burdens

 

that seem beyond our capacity to cope

and our collective ability to hope. 

 

The clocks have gone back, so gather together

for shivering support, for talking and thinking,

not instantly sharing Assumption’s lies.

Face Winter’s sleet, rub our eyes,

 

for if there’s ever to be a Spring,

It might begin when just one winner

Says’ “No more.  Enough.”

In the silence that follows, birds might chime in.