WENDY STERN - POEMS

Sometimes

 

Sometimes sorry is a dried up word,
Empty of meaning.
A pile of autumn leaves,
Shrivelled, colour-drained,
Empty of meaning.

We raise our hats to the unseen forces
That restore, renew, reawaken us.
We raise our hats to the unseen forces.

Sometimes,
Sorry is a dried up word,
And there is nothing to do
But wait...