brackish water dripping
from a rusted spicket
a broken wagon wheel
spinning in the sand
smoke rising from
a fire already dead
bells tinkling in the wind
on the porch of an
abandoned house
train tracks, no train!
words i have written
with a pen dipped in blood.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
'vanity of vanities, all is vanity...' Soloman