A Broken World - The Dreadnoughts

This afternoon was the color of water falling through sunlight;

The trees glittered with the tumbling of leaves;

The sidewalks shone like alleys of dropped maple leaves

And the houses ran along them laughing out of square, open windows

Under a tree in the park

Two little boys, lying flat on their faces

Were carefully gathering red berries

To put in a pasteboard box

Some day there will be no war

Then I shall take out this afternoon

And turn it in my fingers

And remark the sweet taste of it upon my palate

And note the crisp variety of its flights of leaves

Today I can only gather it

And put it into my lunch-box

For I have time for nothing

But the endeavour to balance myself

Upon a broken world