Shockingly bright colors hovering over this mind,
not alighting, preferring to hover, checking out
landscapes and feeling it's tender and warm glow.
Insipid and inspiring, adjusting interior moods
to fit retiring aspects of daily live, no longer
wanting anything else to enter the picture keeping
it entirely in the present for it's duration
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem