(In loving memory of Joey Accetta who died of a broken heart;
Mar.28,1934-Mar.24,2005)
Deflated
I can't make plans
my life is on
a resperator.
Something's hidden
in a picture
maybe?
Something, I can't quite
put my finger on.
Do you have it,
that innate
Celtic requiem?
Miraculous,
how some people
touch our lives-
without even knowing.
They just pass thru,
almost, half asleep
not fully grasping
the keys'
they give us
and when death comes,
so easily,
it's too hard living
without them.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Very touching.Beautifully written.thank you.