finely stitch leaf a roll
hanging by thread bit small
silky wrap smooth to touch
intricate lines equidistant
multiples hanging by a tree
waiting for birth; fly-away
soon that tree full of wings
multicolored beauty resting
motionless like wall paper
drying wings building power
then flap them against wind
and we never see them again
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem