Those moveable towers
That search to spout,
Tugging to one end
Of firth, then another
Needle into the hay,
Rocket launch dawn
And move aside,
Bring on the thunder,
There is supposed to be a season
Before the storms come,
But they are untethered now,
Endless,
I could weep
And break my heart
With remembering,
How wild we used to be,
How free,
Before Kings thought
They were not one of us,
Only part of the wrath of a god
Come down.