forget. pack a bag. now it is much easier
to travel. distance shrinks. baggage grows wheels.
I’m not sure, but I get an impression
that a palm tree I pass by every morning
has moved a little south.
in my mind, pregnant with hope,
swells the idea of being happy. unconditionally.
right now and here…today’s special, crab soup
served on the curb of a street in a big city.
I’m moving north, without luggage,
where snow flakes
are the size of dinner plates.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem