The World Is Still Theirs

They sit there alone in

The silent, still park with

Rigid trees all around them

The sky is still dark but

The stars keep them

Warm in the cold winter’s

Morn and although their

Hearts fly their faces

Are forlorn because

Soon the world wakes

And the noise will be

Loud and heavy and

Dull like a full

Thunder cloud and yet

Still they sit silent enjoying

The stillness and oneness

Of knowing the world

Is still theirs

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Categories: Poetry | Leave a comment

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