Thursday, February 01, 2007

Ashes, Ashes

Ashes sift from spacious skies,
blacker snow than ever fell,
leave a drift of fear and lies
where freedom had its citadel.

The toxic powder covers all,
mountain, prairie, farm and town,
torturers and listeners crawl
to kneel before an evil clown.

Everything we thought was best,
all we fondly thought we were,
has now been coolly laid to rest
with our dishonored ancestors.


Cailleach said...

You know this could be read as being anit-Bush, but the great thing about the way this is written is that it can be read as being against any reign of terror that ends in total apocalyptic calamity like this poem seems to.
Very dark.

Debi said...

You? What's there to know? That you're a damn fine poet ...

Minx said...

Well, the damn fine poet better get his finger out of his arse and get linking - I think he might be getting some traffic.

Again, rich words, Mr Carver.

Roberta said...

Kate sent me here. I truly am amazed at your writing! Good work!. I will return!

John said...

I never expected such a warm welcome. Thank you all very much. You warm an old man's heart.

Debi said...

Or you could use another of my dad's sayings - thank you from the heart of my bottom.