The dreams
still happen,
as they will, .
through mists
that flicker in my eyes.
And even though there
is knocking at my door,
I'm busy
with my own hemisphere.
The glow of the planet
shines in red and white
flags dashing in the
early dawn of perspective.
Even so.
My thinning body
cares only for itself.
Dragons may be fantasy,
but reality still
insists it is happening
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem