Poem: Turning

By Jack Brummet

1

The host and the tenant are locked

In benign equilibrium.

Each valley is followed by a slope
And every going followed by a return.

There is no relief without an ache
And no virus without a host.

2

The bricks tumble into the moat.
The king's body hangs naked from the flagpole.

For a fleeting moment

The condition exists for change.
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