Aged Mirrors (77) Poem by Raquel Angel Nagler

Aged Mirrors (77)



Little by little
Habit
Is no longer a visitor in our life.
It is our life.


Aged years.
We realize
It is not us who weigh our tears.
It's our tears that weigh us.


Late hours.
The soul seems distant, foreign.
It is the body that know
What time it is.





---

From Aged Mirrors - trilogyofthemirrors.com

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
Close
Error Success