23 March 2015

no winners at the end

to speak of valour is no great mistake
when each of us confronts the howling gale
those who are ready when the sandbags fail
know what is meant when city turns to lake
each of them is that moment wide awake
while in their corners all the cowards quail
left with no benefit save their own stale      
as even stoutest bodies bend and shake
words that are spoken in the autumn sun
lose all their purchase during winter's turn
but are the currency of many schools
repenting of their choices no one's done
before they see their youthful wishes burn

and know themselves for ordinary fools

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