Sunday, 22 May 2011

Poem from the collection 'Sahara in my hands' (1992) by the Danish poet Morten Søndergaard

Time is a bald woman
hammering her head against the walls
spitting out stones over the marble floor
of a white hospital.
No one can remember
when or why they came.
There is a smell of disinfectant
deep in the shadows, and some people
lie strapped to metal beds
in the dark and listen.
Amongst the sounds
that still keep them awake
the tapping of the
blind man’s stick can be heard
against the slate roof.

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