Bad Penny

by February 1, 2013 0 comments

The taxman had arrived; the hedge
around the village strained
as each fine root seized
in the earth; the fallen leaves

rattled over hoar frost ground
as the wind picked up. Households
gently snuffed the lingering lamps
of early morning: it was time

that the bill be paid in full
with breathing coin, crib fresh
and wrapped in Christening gown
as humble tribute to the lord.

editors note:

Our humble offering to the governmental god, all dressed up prettily; he’s gonna get it no matter what. – mh

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