Twenty-first century ciphers,
lashed to a mast
as the sirens sing
and the wax melts
in the growing heat.
The old cadence wanes now,
and we row to the beat
of a different tune,
its tantalising lyrics
drowning all sense,
and the oarlocks empty
with few hands left
capable of cutting our fetters.
John Walter Taylor
© All rights reserved
30 August 2026
