Politics in America, like this thistle – a thousand pricks gone to seed.
Happy Autumnal Equinox!
Restless dreams at night
Toss’d ’bout on flashes of light
Ships on stormy seas
A thunder not heard
The storm can’t hide its approach
Bright lightning flashes
The quiet of night
Static on the radio
The rain comes lightly
As the mask we wear erodes, what truth will be revealed? Is there anything substantial behind the mask?