Dusty boxes in the yard
for trash pick-up today.
His first love died some years ago,
he’s finally throwing things away.
It’s time to move along now,
a new love’s moving in.
So bittersweet, his feelings,
he thought he’d never love again.
His old love has a new home,
in his memories, she’ll stay …
not the dusty boxes in the yard
for trash pick-up today.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Wow, a short little poem with so much imagery! Beautiful. xoxo Ray