Poem: Where the Children Stand

Where the Children Stand

By Brent Johnson, Clam Gulch

If a dove dove

from a steeple fair

she’d rest on wings

without a care.

But donkeys don’t

enjoy such bliss

when faced with

a precipice.

If sheep approach

a canyon deep

they never lose

a wink of sleep.

But elephants

could not relax

if rumored you

might raise their tax.

Off in Hamelin

Bob Browning records

a case of rats

that came in hordes.

What befell them then,

no one confuse it,

pay the Piper

or face the music.

Our own choice is fat

and ripe to rot

before we harm children

tax me a lot.

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