Aged Mirrors (46) Poem by Raquel Angel Nagler
Aged Mirrors (46)
Twilight.
It is too late for fear.
The future is the 'now'.
Our soul
As old as our years.
We don't ask ourselves what we want.
We only ask questions too small
To contain pain.
Little by little
We understand
There was never
Anything to understand.
Not even life.
The twilight:
An alley that leads us
To a small plaza,
To moon benches.
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From Aged Mirrors - trilogyofthemirrors.com
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4/26/2024 2:19:27 AM # 1.0.0.1119
