I Pity Them Poem by Antony Glaser

There is always the earth
making its treats
The splendour that rises
spreading all around

The wind plays with the light
and I hear the birds
The small rivulet adjoins
the ready river

Today I began anew
I drink my nectars
blazing over with awe
it is 4AM
where the devils and angels jockey each other
for Ascendancy
I pity them

Hexagonal snowflakes
pour over me
I am in a quandary
I write myself over
I am no longer afraid
Let the people carry on
the best they can do
behind closed windows