Not every poem is a first
love lost, a walk
in the wood, or war,
the folly of man, death,
a scarlet bloom
Or the embrace
of a child, cat's
paws, snow
and bunnies, oil
burning, black satin
teddy, trembling
shoulders, soft
orange moon
Or floats
a clear brown river, returning
back, illuminating
past, making
believe, terrifying
truth
Or is a window
or a door
or even vacant slabs
of brittle lawn
Not every poem beats
hearts
Or is white
cold bathroom tiles
Or is a mirror
This one
Not even
this one
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem