POETRY                                                                                               (Copyright - Pierre du Toit)
                           ...................................................................................................................................................................
 

                         Time                                                                    

                    When first they break from bone
                    and burst the gums like from a womb
                    they're sharp and keen
                    and loosely planted
                    in the jaws of time
                    they grow, and grind the years,
                    are ground themselves
                    without renewal
                    wear, are pounded by the hours
                    and the false sweet time
                    which rots unseen
                    until the end,
                    when life around is laid to rest
                    to decompose obscurely
                    in the stench of death there stand
                    the small white stones,
                    the ghosts of breaths
                    which once had  been

 (See photograph at People SA Album 015 #1 )

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