V I I

sometimes on hazy mornings
i wake up to see
the vultures on my roof
perfectly still
and looking into the distance
a distance
that i cannot look into
and sometimes
on humid afternoons
i watch the dirty streets
as scrawny men
with gaunt faces
stop to wash their feet
and then tip-toe
to find a place
where they can ask for forgiveness

there is a profound truth
in the clock always turning
but somehow
it seems heavier here
and even though
silence reigns in the air
as we sleep in darkness
there will always be
the battered donkey
screaming as dawn breaks
and the cockroaches
that will always
find a way in
no matter

what

you

do

© tobiaskinti