Aged Mirrors (72) Poem by Raquel Angel Nagler
Aged Mirrors (72)
Rating: ★5.0
Hours made of dusk.
We lose our outer wings,
Not our inner ones:
Our secret lightness.
Aged time.
I have to prove nothing anymore,
Not even to myself.
It's late in my body.
I have to endure nothing anymore,
Not even the tomorrow.
---
From Aged Mirrors - trilogyofthemirrors.com
Monday, December 28, 2020
Topic(s) of this poem: wings
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8/13/2026 4:45:27 AM # rel_20260811T123139Z_a98d49b
