to come home
and be not at home with the house
you are detached from the intimacy of a garden
the dog recognizes you still
but you have no intention to play with it
you are looking
for the right time
and it could be
not later
it is a kind of kiss
no longer of your liking
even the sound of your own feet
on the floor
has become
another stranger
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem