A fog of silence
Invaded my
Table
For couple dead hours
the cafe
Looked like a deserted temple
the server is bored with his long
lasting boredom
A Lady
came across my table
Her eyes were firing
At mine
She said
“Beautiful night? ”
“Is it? ”
I was busy sharpening my pencil
Against the concrete slab
She dumped her cigarette
In my ashtray
And added “Have a good night”
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem