I am old here without your tongue By aldo kraas, www.PoetryPoem.com/poet11586 Unlock all Features - Upgrade to Poetry Prime
i must complete
this morning's traditions,
smoothly as best i can,
transition the dead bolt turning.
there is the feast to
prepare,
eulogies to compose
to unknown lovers,
heroes frozen to the floors
of transit points,
vast blue-iced miles presented
as gifts.
no amount of looking can change
the distant truth
that these wrinkled traditions
possess us
like great white birds flying
to canada,
i am old here without
your tongue
it is foreign,
as foreign as you and mine.
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