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Speedily we grow old
resolutions upon resolutions
resolutions made
resolutions of resolutions made
deeds done to undo
time presses on us all
takes our hands and wringles them
takes hold of our feet
makes them immobile
takes away our motion, our push
time, our constant, everpresent enemy
takes hold of our faces
renders them invisible, unrecognisable
gradually, no quickly
we are washed away into the grey, bleak shades
the unforgotten
all our resolutions
come to memories
resolute thoughts and actions of impotency
rested in the minds of men
never, never made to speak and walk.
(March 18, 1969) |
Khasu, Kona. “To Time, Our Enemy.” The Seeds of Time: A Collection of Poems. Mimeographed typescript. Monrovia, 1971. 44.
| Line | Typescript | Changed to |
| 12 | take hold of our faces | takes hold of our faces |
