This fog comes,
not on “little cat’s feet”,
but with the stealthy stride
of a larger beast.
It drains away all color
and obscures familiar landmarks
and it leaves your spine aquiver
and its kiss upon your cheek.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
WOW! This says a lot in such a short piece. Yes I agree that the fog of love can be as stealthily like a panther on the prowl. Thank you for sharing. Love& hugs, Barbara