A farewell from the sixteenth century
in music, like a loving and much loved hand
slipping away in slow motion leaves me
greyscaled and sobbing and feeling agrieved
to turn and live with the still-life living 
dwelling on the cusp of death and nothing
but  the plight of Gaza can fill our minds
while a dung-beetle pushes a rough globe 
before it, that strength has abandoned us
sad to say, there is no more song: silence.
Dread and Fear are our new Hope and Glory.