A green patch of growth
Raved in Dandelion yellow
Sway to the rhythm of wind
Under an old willow
Out of place it lurks
A muddy pond man-made
Where a lone duck sun bathes
In its weed laden banks-narrow
A concrete wall cage them in
A smiling face splattered on it
Black eyed and red lipped
Outside my window
At my honey oak desk I sit
Surrounded by paper rustling
Wallowing it all, idling
Impatiently, waiting till four!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem