Ides of March

 Beware the Ides of Marchhalo rims the sun’s shadow;on field edge owl hunts. Nothing comes of nothingnothing ever does:power hover’s in the hands of nondescript. Old friends betrayJulius rises from hisdusty grave to warn us. Fools trump the landthat never was free;yet star spangled flag promises succour,offers blood. Beware the Ides of Marchthe peril you can’t seewhen all our dreams become a destiny of dust. Cataclysmic dayspromise unrestsun scorched by thin veneer of eggs over easy. To listen to poem click here