Rants. raves and ramblings from celestial circles . . .

 

Back when taxes
Paid the emperor and the church
And every last drop from the vineyard
or from the plough
Would pay for a bird to eat
or fresh bread
for the morning sun.

The mouths
and the hands of the keepers
always open to receive
or to devour.

Where the children kept the house clean, the keepers would just shuffle games
To make the next fare
Rich enough for a knot
On the monks sash.

 

.

12-19-2017

 

fjl:

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