I’ve been thinking about all sorts of things,
like what happens when all the butterflies in Brazil
refuse to flap their wings.
Will the world be still?
Will love and humour be the norm?
Will hurricanes refuse to form?
When sparrows refrain from passing wind
until after the sun sets and the dead walk
and all the saints have sinned
and a million angels talked the talk.
Written in 2008 not published.
Copyright © 2021 John Tomlinson