Monday Poem, after Hughes

We rule here,
great

stomping conquerors
stinking

with hubris,
demanding

and receiving fealty,
tasting

the blood
of the defiant

and the slow,

judging.
And yet

when we've gone,
when our heavy weight

no longer presses
on the earth,

When the pennies
on our eyes

have crumbled,
Still

there will be
this

terrible beauty,

Earth rampant
on a field of sky.

Thank you to TFE for the assignment. Click here for TFE's blog, where you will find links to more Monday poems.