missed train
sight of a deceased
he throws the new ring away
fresh hope
first light brusts
through the sky
sound of waves
a boat bobs up
and down the sky
mom's tinkling bracelets
the warm feeling
in the house
the flow of my pride
gentle water in all its splendour
my horoscope
so small
i let the ants on sugar
run free
Yes, I agree with Sherrie that this poem and much of your writing is 'koan-esque, ' poignancy in just a few words. The last stanza is very good.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
............enjoyed reading each of these....so creative...