As the day withers
little girls like flowers
chant & jump rope
their rhymes touching us
as we approach
& you
without skipping a beat
(almost lost in this twilight)
jump in
& out
of their skipping
feet criss-crossing
time
showing me the little girl
you were
and the woman
who is mine.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
be happy he gave a an apple to remind you of the anaconda hiding beneath lovely 4 young gals a guys gift red roses and apples only