An endless climb

by T.P. Wilkinson / December 13th, 2020

Hanged the moon

Is there any space
where no stones or glass
experiences unrelated join,
Wires wound to magnetize
in solitude metallic mass
upward pushed or seized apace
our life and love to purloin
toxic substitutes to synthesize.

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

This article was posted on Sunday, December 13th, 2020 at 8:02am and is filed under Poetry.