Picking up dead brittle flowers along the dirt road
Crushing them. Throwing them gently to the North Wind.
BLUE... the shadow of dust lining your petals.
I wish to be a wandering gypsy.
Listening to the stars and singing with the sun.
BLUE... the shadow of pine needles embedded in the warm earth.
I wish to skate on the Big Dipper.
Slipping and sliding... I wish to...
BLUE... the shadow of ragged drapes against dirty panes.
I wish the crocuses would burst within me.
Creating visions - illusions admidst the cotton.
BLUE... the shadow of my dreaming
BLUE... BLUE... I wish blue roses to my love.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem