Tinkerers

By smokejack

Fri, 17 Apr 2015
  • 565 reads
2 comments
 

I see them in different shapes

And sizes

Pockets emptied

Of any surprises

 

I see them in different Towns

And Cities

Shoulders shed

Of self pity

 

Silence is the language

Spoken in their mind

Each of them thinks

They’re one of a kind

 

I see them on different days

And nights

Floating like

Escaped kites

 

I see their indifference

To intransigence

No fire starters

Sit on their fence

 

They are the soldier ants

And the worker bees

The tinkerers of life

Easy to please

 

©JmcN2015

Certificate U
Poem
Philosophy

Comments

Submitted by london_calling79 on

I keep coming back to this as I like the sounds and images but am no closer to a meaning. I like that mystery.

 

Submitted by Kurt Rellians on

I like the poem. It gets us thinking. At first I thought tinkerers might be like busybodies, being a bit of a nuisance. But later I realised the tinkerers must be the workers, who do all the work.