Charl JF Cilliers
As A Child - Poem by Charl JF Cilliers
Across the lake like a desperate cry
I’d catapult the smoothest stone
that I could find and watch it fly
high into the air to hover there alone.
Now I wonder why,
years later, I remember it high
up against the sun, as if I did not share
in its long fall into the deep dark water there.
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