Ronald Stuart Thomas

(1913 - 2000 / Cardiff / Wales)

Ruins - Poem by Ronald Stuart Thomas

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And this was a civilization
That came to nothing--he spurned with his toe
The slave-coloured dust. We breathed it in
Thankfully, oxygen to our culture.

Somebody found a curved bone
In the ruins. A kings probably,
He said. Imperfect courtiers
We eyed it, the dropped kerchief of time.


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Read poems about / on: culture, time



Poem Submitted: Friday, January 3, 2003



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