I'm stuck like an obsidian rock
tethering
by a craggy ledge
and narrow gorge
tilted like a half-filled pitcher
by the garden hose holder
Blackbird looms
with wings so wide
engulfing
with claws like daggers
and beak so sharp
it's glimmering
Wilted angel white roses I see
Young thundering hearts I feel
Pleading milk bottled thoughts I hear
Echoing like a tingling Himalayan Bell
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem