The sky looked steel grey above
And roses with swords for thorns
Rocked against the skyline.
Your cities of old with steel caps
Are nought but dreams with taps
Their rolling fancy is never mine.
Watching the aeroplanes overhead
Cast shadows over the hills and rivers
Their motion is anything but anodyne.
The interest of the shadows subsided
As clouds assembled their old darkness
Without exception no one was bothered.
Would it stir us given a handful of roses,
At the point of a sword pointing skyward,
With a slash only scattered petals remained.
