Dec. 2nd, 2006

fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)
when laughter and dance turn suddenly to war
we're shocked back in our seats by a sharp blow
we see the boats rowing swiftly towards shore
and want to move but our limbs feel so slow
the conch-horn sounds the drums are loudly beat
from closer to us the sounds of gun-fire
the music sounds both advance and retreat
and takes us at the same time soaring higher
than we expect as all the sounds combine
into a heavy rhythm stronger than any heart's
we're startled by sheer clarity of line
and our emotions move in fits and starts
the annals of those times we now peruse
and wonder at the ancestors' excuse

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fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)
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