Burying The Hatchet. Poem by Dan Reynolds
Burying The Hatchet.
Burying the hatchet.
When the table is cleared
Heads bowed
Sense and reserve
firmly re-established
Recognition of remorse
and a new course agreed,
We will study the charts and
collaborate
It will be in these smiling times
That the disc will separate
The cord will divide and split
The lung will hiss like the bladder
of an old leather ball
As the blade slides
Un-erringly through
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4/25/2024 2:45:27 AM # 1.0.0.1119
