A whisper.
That’s all it was.
A low, soft, whisper.
But, I heard it.
I did.
It came from the window
as the gentle, evening breeze
came into the room.
A whisper
Softly calling my name.
With chocolate chip cookies
and a small pot of coffee
I am compelled to sit on the porch.
The air is cool and damp.
Rain falls from the sky
that is whitish gray in color.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem