i walk backwards without
losing eye contact; i feel
softness of her eyes; pain
of not knowing who she is
i'm in a hurry to go home
it's getting late & no moon
i know she remember me
she tried to wave innocently
i probably smiled or stunned
i rub my hands to keep warm
couple more miles i'll be there
to slide my back on empty chair
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem