Aged Mirrors (43) Poem by Raquel Angel Nagler

Inside us:
An evening as vast, as small,
As our life.


Late hours.
Among the walls of time:
Lizards of quiet.


Aged hours.
The irreparable patience of the old.
Even the tears are slow waters.



Hours made of weary years.
All we want is to know
As much as needed
To live. To die.


The barefoot family of my pain.
Slowly it enters the evening
With tears in its soles.


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