yesterday felt like years ago
as I return to a stranger
looking forward to tomorrow.
watching day turn to night
and back again
from a window seat
cuddling Fordors in last wishes...
it approaches ironic
how departure
looks to re-tie knots
in a 'less is more' scenario,
albeit, for a measured time.
the rhythmic clatter of wheels
against hollow floors
lends this solemn mood
a drum beating
bring out your dead in
tin against tin.
and the earth rushes by.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem