When I was younger
I could smell
My father’s hair
In my hat.
Today I noticed
It wasn’t
The same
Maybe I have forgotten
Maybe I have changed
But I don’t smell
Like my father anymore.
He has been dead
Almost twenty years now
When I see him in my dreams
He is across the street
Reading the paper
He doesn’t look up
When I call
His name.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem