BY MCDOG, 3RD YEAR, LAS POSITAS COLLEGE
Lo!
For beneath the mount of dog & devil
Lays the dell & twilight sun
In deep repose,
Their scæd upending ever westward.
And withinne,
A byre — nay, an ochre bed of duff,
Where scribes do lay & dip their heads like
Cattle in the evening breeze,
Taking of the lurid, hoary pools of iron gall.
Carving in their names and wits
Upon the flesh of history,
Striving to trump thy constancy,
O patient Death.
Each line, a prayer;
And word, an alm
To serve the body & its virtues
As a resurrection.
But alas, when they haft gone
And You put down this leaflet,
We shall all fade in dusts of time
And light of day.
The only nurturing of life in Death: the Sun.
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