Thursday, 21 May 2009


It’s a nosy old day
As the cold wind blows each way,
Sniffing everything’s business;
Searching for a response
From the faults of man
And the cracks in all walls;
Shifting the dust
And junk on the ground,
Sweeping its creases
And hounding animals
In their holes;
But if only it had whistled
Up to my side first I would have
Told it all it needed to know,
About how He is
Coming home and that it
Needs to ease its harassment
Otherwise it will have
Me to answer to.

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