It’s war in my yard
and the ginger Persian cat
lies stretched out
gazing at the trenches
where some gecko’s has disappeared
as if the golden eyes of it
can draw them out of cracks.
A little later the two dogs sniff under a bush
and chase something out of it
that draws a grey stripe
over the grass
past my window
and both cats
fly up with arching backs
and paws out deadly
to capture it.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem