Before the demise

by T.P. Wilkinson / March 1st, 2020

Some bells no longer toll

Set the table,
press the shirt,
to eat you’re able
without the dirt
if we sit, if where we lay
lamps are lit
or light’s still day
and oranges ripen
above our heads
gulls and swallows
don’t compete
while dogs go hunting,
leaving sentient cats
around our feet,
before we fleetly
join the dead.

T.P. Wilkinson, Dr. rer. pol. writes, teaches History and English, directs theatre and coaches cricket between the cradles of Heine and Saramago. He is author of Unbecoming American: A War Memoir and also Church Clothes, Land, Mission and the End of Apartheid in South Africa. Read other articles by T.P..

This article was posted on Sunday, March 1st, 2020 at 8:02am and is filed under Poetry.