Elegy for Brim
Shall I write this
with my head on the floor?
The door outside mine
is where we first met..
and yet the gap now between us
is the visible and the invisible;
the heard; the felt
and the silent and the dumb;
Yet he didn’t stir
when I put my music on
nor did he wince
when things weren’t done
-Yet now he is gone.
o where is the sense in that? ...
where he is gone
when we’re pressed upon.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem