it was in the news, it made history For two whole days... He died on a step on a winter's night. He cried out to the wind, he sobbed to the snow He dreamt of an open turf fire red hot embers and that knowing smell. Dark forces of frost crinkled, crunched Freezing veins freezing heart one cell at a time. Winter covers its own mistakes Snow falls to hide blood, shed Ice forms on damp cardboard A coffin floating in slush. Can you remember his name? Six months since long gone by His face? His name: No Men Clature? A specimen of austerity.





You must be logged in to post a comment.