Lighter mornings

The night is as dark as ever
in a rapidly changing World,
that never changes.

Daylight saving is fine
as far as I know
but what I don’t know
is
who is saving it
and why.

Perhaps it’s being stockpiled
in case the Sun burns out
and we’ll then be charged
for it,
(pay per ray)

Nothing else is new that I know of
not that I know of much,
in dreams
occasionally
genius touches me
that
I do know.

I wonder if performing seals
get fed up,
I don’t mean with fish,
but do they ever wish they
weren’t so artistic?

If I elect to play ‘snap’
is that a snap election
or just
miscommunication?

bundling my belongings
into an old canvas sack
trundling along
not once looking back
as it all disappears,

years ago
I think I did know
but not anymore.

the lights are still burning
and those yearning for hope
can get it for free
from the wandering missionary
who
used to be a minstrel until he
retrained under yet another
government initiative.

I still see the bare bones
of the lacklustre,
with homes enough to spare
I shouldn’t be able to.

Harder times
failing visions
blurred lines
the ever changing
always feels the same.

© 2017, John Smallshaw.