Barely a twelvemonth after The seven days war that put the world to
sleep, previous(a) in the evening the strange horses came. By then we had make our convenant with
silence, But in the first few days it was so still We listened to our breathing and were afraid. On the second day The radios failed; we turn the knobs; no
answer. But on the third day a warship passed us,
heading north, Dead bodies piled on the deck.
On the sixth
day A plane plunged everywhere us into the sea.
Thereafter Nothing. The radios dumb. And still they deadlock in corners of our
kitchens, And stand, perhaps, turned on, in a million
rooms, All over the world. But now if they should
address, If on a sudden they should speak again If on the stroke of noon a vocalize should speak, We would not listen, we would not let it
bring That old tough world that swallowed its
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