(1935 - )
Telling Time
My son and I walk away
from his sister’s day-old grave.
Our backs to the sun,
the forward pitch of our shadows
tells us the time.
By sweetest accident
he inclines
his shadow, touching mine.
It seems that each year Poetry Month includes a poem which requires no introduction. The only guidance needed for Telling Time is a reminder to sit with it for a minute. Let it sink in.
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