I’ve just worked out why
all my poems are so;
they all seem to be about Triffids,
you know, those man-eating plants
that won’t give us a chance
if we’re blind to the threat that they pose.
I suppose they must live, as must we;
but, it’s not really fair,
if only the Triffids can see.
Well, we’ve had a good run,
some bits were fun,
but, now that the end is in sight,
we should wave our goodbyes,
to a final Sunrise;
and give thanks to those lights in the night. J
