Circles
Circles Brightly colored robes that fade when seen, Full feasts in an empty canteen. Flashing entertainments gone routine, One after the other scripted scene. Overlord of the endless dune, Walled away in a stone cocoon. And day after day the repeated rune, And no one to read but a silent moon. And he calls upon a deity’s name To curse a sky that will not rain, And though he shouts from night to noon, There is none to hear but the silent moon. Monotonous days dully stark, Hoary haze in the glaring dark. Shifty sands the only landmark, Repeat always the endless arc. Walled away, he is marooned, A king perhaps or some tycoon. And he thinks of no one else to impugn, Than the unhearing disc of the silent moon. And he calls upon a deity’s name To curse a sky that will not rain, And though he shouts from night to noon, There is none to hear but the silent moon. Riches that he...