Aged Mirrors (10) Poem by Raquel Angel Nagler

Aged Mirrors (10)



Liquid evening.
We don't voyage anymore.
All that's left
Are the minutes, the hours:
Boats made of water.


It's late in our life.
No more peaks, nor chasms to climb.
They are old and shrunk
As ourselves.


Aged hours.
The only rebellion against death
That is left
Are the tears:
The living waters.

- -

From Aged Mirrors - trilogyofthemirrors.com

Saturday, December 22, 2018
Topic(s) of this poem: spiritual
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