A thin, white sheet covers my corpse
A nun kisses my toes, one by one,
In a small adobe chapel,
On a high plains desert.
Incantations like heat convections,
Slowly peel away from the roof tiles,
A mirage even God accepts
As the truth.
You convey such a full image with so few words. Very nicely done.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Wonderfully written. I loved it. : -)