Unto Caesar Poem by Neil Crawford

It is not a day for Poetry,
its music would be drowned

out by the sound of knives being sharpened
and axes being ground.

But no matter who's in power,
the plastic puppets of the hour..

They cannot slash the sunset,
they cannot cap the dawn

they cannot tax the starling
as it hops across the lawn

they can't reduce the songthrush
as it trills upon the stump

they can't cut back the daffodils
with talk of boom and slump.