Misericordia

He earned his bread by making wooden soldiers, With beautiful golden instruments. Riding dapple-grey horses.

But when he heard the fanfare of trumpets And the long rattle of drums As the army marched out of the city.

He took all his soldiers And burned them in the grate ;

And that night he fashioned a ballet-dancer Out of tinted tissue-paper.

And the next day he started to carve a Pieta On the steel hilt Of a cavalry sword.