There is a fluffy, blue hydrangea flower (solo and strong) on my parents’ patio.
This Southern Summer storm thrashes at the screens and petals …
The smoke from my cigarette hugs the humidity and eddies,
The radiation from my cell phone swamps my brain,
The alcohol from my beer soaks into every atom …
On this day, today,
We stay.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem