Marking Time Poem by Charl JF Cilliers

Marking Time



Their grey heads are tilted, each stare
as hard and bright as the pain
they are sheltering from, huddled near
each other out of the rain.

They fondle their glasses, hands
cupped around remembrances of youth
as incoherent as unmade plans:
how painfully informal is the truth.

Thursday, October 15, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: metaphysical
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Charl JF Cilliers

Charl JF Cilliers

Cape Town, South Africa
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