I am exhausted
the party has gone on
too long
and still the guests
linger
like the last leaves
of autumn
defiant against the night
or merely fearing sleep
they gesture against the
chill of evening
A great picturing of what we are afraid of.A great poem, dear Barry.I'll translate it too. Its perception deserves to be monumentized in my language too.
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A great picturing of what we are afraid of.A great poem, dear Barry.I'll translate it too. Its perception deserves to be monumentized in my language too.
Thanks. This is another very old one. From the 1970s I think.