The mood for the evening
is set:
A cellist plays the 'Lachrymosa'
amidst the clinking of glasses
and silverware.

But a spilled decanter
raises a row.
Who knocked it over?
No one's certain.
As the servers rush to clean it,
The Figurehead raises
his sleepy head
and utters these fateful words:
'One of you shall betray me.'

The seed's been planted.
They all remain frozen,
Eyeing each other suspiciously.
Unseen by them,
The cellist smirks
beneath his thinly-veiled disguise.

@thewaywardpoet

#politics #political #symbolism #metaphor #currentevents #UnitedStates #America #poetry #spontaneousprose

© All Rights Reserved