yesterday, it was in bloom,
the flame of the forest, bordering
my window, billowing curtains
of petals down, in showers hot and hue-some,
patterning the ground in eccentric patterns of
extreme ecstasy, blinking and winking,
streaming bright orange-red dreams for me,
winning me over
with its ambery flames, licking
the frames of my windows, winnowing
out the grayness of an evening
when i heard not from you,
not even a monosyllable
that may have broken the bleakness of my day.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem