The Poet
Hush, my children, and leave Dad alone,
He’s converting a bomb he’d have willingly thrown
At some devil he thinks should be crippled or dead
Into words of transcendence and wisdom instead.
Jerusalem
17 September 1995
Hush, my children, and leave Dad alone,
He’s converting a bomb he’d have willingly thrown
At some devil he thinks should be crippled or dead
Into words of transcendence and wisdom instead.
Jerusalem
17 September 1995