The Triumph of Experience (poem)

And the old men sit
Legs crossed, brows furrowed
In a wait that defines afternoons

Memories must dance
in the welter of lines that
run on their trellis cheeks

Little boys they were once
Much like the ones they watch today
In the firm, radiant eyes that look nowhere
A desire unstated
To transcend the ways of time

The Eternal must triumph over the Young


(c) N.Madhavan, 2015