Imaginary Ground Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak
Imaginary Ground
Owl eyes staring out at me from inside a picture
hanging on the wall, awaiting people to admire it's
artistic grace.
Brown leaves drifting and falling to the imaginary
ground, where they will lie for an eternity.
Because no one can ever see them beneath the painting -
unable to rake them into piles for children to jump
and scatter across an unseen yard.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/19/2024 12:57:59 AM # 1.0.0.1119
