Hanging over roofs in my neighborhood,
early on a winter night,
the cradle shape of a crescent moon
peers through bare branches of beech and poplar
and, filtered by the frosty air,
chases the departed sun,
tracing a familiar path,
the ticking of a giant clock
framed by legend and gravity,
while diesels labor hauling timber
up steep grades of nearby hills,
and families share pieces of their days.
Voting down witness information-
Relegates the trial to a complete sham!
Terrified by disclosure of abhorrent acts-
The elephant symbol doesn’t give a damn!
Empowering Congress with the truth-
Could foster the power of the Lamb!
Honest Abe would be totally dismayed-
At this undemocratic collaborator’s wham!
This ridiculous imitation unsuccessful-
Imminent election can eradicate flim flam!
ESTHER M. CANTUA