Noise Poem by Lawrie Stuart Ronton
Noise
Gold, freezing feeling.
Slight change in the environment,
less space yet less choice,
Maybe the case is noise.
Many a man,
serves right when he can,
This isn't an announcement
To it.
Sitting in his riches,
Staunting the boots,
of ice climbers,
in the race.
Race against time,
Not a slow, motion crime.
The grey rock,
Can only glance back.
He's gone and lost his boy,
called Jack.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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8/5/2026 8:23:01 AM # rel_20260803T153344Z_4267e77
