AS THE KINGDOM CRUMBLES
The solace of the fields is in the salted marsh grass
bending : terns and gulls as a chorus singing. I can
do no more than listen carefully : in some duller coastal
light I wait. Everything is so different : waves crashing
but without real noise, the old half-moon yet dipping
out of a daytime sky. A few ships, way out towards
the horizon, slogging their way across a cargo-board.
Time tells its tales on everything.
-
All of this as the kingdom crumbles, the nation falls
and the works of man wither. I hear the South Jersey
twang talking. In Camden, the police have given up.
No more locals, the State Police have taken over the
town. Their cars patrol. Their firearms watch. I hear
the people talking - they twist their words somehow,
and 'State Police' becomes 'Stay Please'. I want to
think I understand the meaning of that, lest I too fade.
Time tells its tales on everything.
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