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Tuesday, 06 November 2012 05:40

Survival

By 
We who accept survival as our password

accept incompleteness as our blessing.
 
We who dress in blindness and in faith

do not know the colour of our palms

nor the weight of our feet upon the water.

We who have dust in our mouths all day

have stones on our tongues instead of songs.

We who quench fire with fire all night

know that wings are not the only ladders

to the dark, that heavy wood swims too

in the tide of the wind.

We who accept survival

accept survival as our curse.


from Light and After (deep south, 2010)



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Kobus Moolman

I have had several poems published in ITCH before

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