On the fence
Surveying all around me...
I make no move toward them,
Listening to their confrontation,
Their war of words, wishing invisability...
But they see me,
Pulling me from my nesting place
And
I
Become a convulsive muted thing
As they chide my silence
And
Walk away!
11/23/77
10: 50 p.m.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem