Epigram ‘n Aphorism Samwiches

Let The Child Sleep

Can't the world be still?
Every babe is crying.
This house sags when floorboards
depress beneath the weight
of a hard shoe.
Leave them at the door.
Leave whatever you have on
that protects you from the weather
on the sturdy rack
in the parlor.

Have tea or lemon-aid.
Come out of the hot sun
or bitter cold, for shade
or heat, the way welcoming
is meant to be
at home.
No radio, no TV blaring.
No images on screens and words
deflecting a world in conflict
while a child is sleeping.

Get your rest, babe.
You could be summoned tomorrow
in the heat or cold, sent
to the street or trench
from a world ever spinning,
but not evolving.

Do we hate? Why war?
Take your shoes off.
Have gin and tonic.
It will take the edge off.


3.9.22

Pretty clear once you get past the mehtaphor. I misspelled on purpose.