SONNET 4 45 43 (SONNET FOR US)
The world without, within our weathered walls,
Remote, like useless windows, small and barred.
Here, months and years run quickly down dim halls,
But says, the daze, the empty days come hard.
I used to count a lot, count everything,
Like exercise and laps and words of prayer.
What hurt that hunger, thoughts that thirst can bring,
Companions, waking, sleeping, always there.
But policy unsanities unwind,
Till bad is good and betterment is worse.
So refuge blanket, net, and molding mind
Create a mingling dream-real universe.
I’m told that steel is forged by heavy blows.
If only men were steel, but then, who knows?
John Borling
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