The Sinking Spell - Michael Mantler

Oh look there’s something way up high

A creature of hunting in the sky

It is not merely sitting there

But falling slowly through the air

Look there’s grouping and gold leaf

Were leveled with the evening trees

Morose inflexible colours

Its gone right through and come to rest

On great grand uncle, oh great jest

Its settled further in the night

And gave the maid an awful fright

It burst without a look or word

Its metaphors floor the third

The week went by it made its way

A little lower everyday

Each time they thought it might have stopped

One found however where it dropped

When one had just walked it can’t be meant

It did not linger after all

Forever in the after

?

in time

We shall not sing anymore