Rights of Spring
Who will endure the sacrifice,
A price named by the gods
For renewal of the cycle,
A year’s circle once rewound.
The living owe a blood-debt,
And it is paid in full
When fetid blood reeks on the ground
Of newly planted fields.
And those may call it wasted
Who will not taste the harvest,
The wise will treasure blessings
From unborn sons and daughters.
Everything you need to know about Don Comfort can be found on page 98 of “The Hitchhiker’s Guide To The Galaxy.”
Copyright © 2014 by Don Comfort
Randomly Accessed Poetics 