Mistletoe
Red and long its handle
Bristles black and diagonal
The broom was vanished!
With tears on both cheeks
Two rivers, joining made stream
Two deltas left behind red-maroon
Close to a whirlpool, fearful.
She whispered:
"I am the janitor
Had plans for winter,
Working hard, hope to earn
Christmas tree; then would buy,
Ornaments and red socks…
Would set gift for my child inside them…
All of them are gone now and the dream diminished
This cloud is barren of silver lining, no baby's Mistletoe! "
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem