i’m walking on cobble stones
i watch debris being blown
steamy breath, cooled feet
rushing thru narrow street
bonefire on a rusting drum
people get themselves warm
some looking out their windows
checking who's passing through
maybe mailman with welfare check
gift from heaven i surely won’t get
today; so quiet as if i’m parting sea
i look around and nobody but me
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem