a poem by r s thomas
and as always with this man’s words
the gentle side of hardship is held vacant
on an age frozen to the hillside of
the walk we are all on and we stand
for a moment to reflect on what it is
that we know and what we wish we knew
as this man’s words we know and trust
to stop everything in its tracks
even the cold rain on the ageless stones
and the trees of life that bow closest to death
as the sun upon a gravestone with flowers
at the foot of our longing for more
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