there is a hum
a distinct hum
a Poet Seer recognizes
alone, alone and sad I walk
Walk in the cemetery and
of my mother think.
How cannot I, my mother?
How can my verse and song be different?
My heart is relatively strong though rent.
And I hear energy emanating in the
cemetery
though it be morn, a little after dawn.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem