Killing Time Poem by Sally Plumb Plumb
Killing Time
Suddenly, I'm old.
My bones, slaked with cold,
jangle with the sound
of rubbing in my ears.
Tears don't come easy.
The teasing street wind
whistles without favour,
and I am slow.
Taking refuge in Tesco,
talking to widow women,
likened with the situation....
their shopping trolleys
half full of expense and need,
I pause....
Freed from time
we kill it
with our jargon.
I'm with you in the Tesco queue now Sally - very poignant.
Thankyou for your comment.... I get slower and slower. All best wishes to you. Sally.
Thankyou, Valerie. I make the trip most Tuesdays, any weather. Old age creeps.
'Freed from time we kill it with our jargon.' Words told from deep perception! Loved these lines.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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8/8/2026 3:15:41 AM # rel_20260806T081513Z_580e7f4
Appreciate your reply to my comment, received more than six years belatedly though.
I’m just catching up. Nice to know you. x