April 23rd
It’s a day us English don’t seem to bother with
although the Red Cross of Saint George flew
from every English church in my youth
times will always be a-changing like
the moving hands of the tower clock
counting each hour one at a time
as the minutes slip through sleep
of countless - the safe-in-bed children
to the cardboard city of the lonely
can we not have a saint that puts
his sword down and makes early
morning tea for the sleeping pavement
waves a look-a-like Potter wand to take
their aches away with their addictions
but it’s more than that because somehow
we need the image of good over bad
and what would you do anyway
with a decomposing dragon
that has always amused children
and warmed them with his fiery throat
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