Do you begin now to see them.
We everywhere used to think,
some boy in Kansas flew
them over there.
To someone here.
Personally,
I don't know from whom
it is and why.
My wife for a while as she worked,
for them to see the world.
Judgement is the drone.
There is no longer,
a double doubt as to when.
It is not me against him
or her my hands are their own.
Whiteout before they all come.
I stand now in stark relief.
Where will we be whenever it comes.
Me, I am what most people think I have,
some one like music is.
Speaking of course to the third person.
Sometimes the wind is right into view.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem