Conditional Sanctuary
You may take some comfort here behind my hedge,
But, if you do, I must insist you rarely speak. I do
Not want to hear of what you bought today when
You were shopping, or of the disgusting products,
Churned out on assembly lines, which you decided
You should eat. I do not want to talk about
Celebrities or any of the vile doings of the faceless
Frauds who buzz in legislatures, pulled along by,
As they're pushing on the strings of our colossus,
Run amok from sea to sea. I do not want my peace
Disturbed. If you should speak, then note the
Silence of my guards, the arching trees, and say
You now can hear the birds, whose calls don't
Carry very far, and say you're fine with sitting,
Watching wind upon the grain below, and
Shadows slowly growing longer. Say, in short,
You understand why almost no one is invited
Here behind my hedge.
poem by Lawrence Beck
Added by Poetry Lover
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