et vita erat lux hominum...
So break your fast (but only by a little)
As all the crows of Glasgow occupy
A corner field. Kilpatrick’s hills will bottle
And Auchentoshan triple verify
This Advent day, the ninth to scare the shadows
Of night from day. Dispersed to snowy meadows,
The rooks and ravens plague the winter’s white
Like cankers in the sunlight – cold delight
For rabble hosts who pilfer gold and sliver
From pillaged villages. In full retreat
Such corvine consensus recalls defeat
At empire’s edge, bravado’s rank palaver
Nonsensical as Caesar’s urge to tax
Expressions of the world in tablet wax.
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