each day
is a new poem.
i will remember
that one which
was glazed by
the rain
that chicken
or that leaf of lettuce
falling
on the floor
or that rubber band
which snapped
or that petal of a
white rose
brave against the
morning sun
or the sands from my
fingers
the repetitive sounds
of the afternoon waves
by the sea
or the parachute that
opens bringing softly
the rider
on top of the mahogany
tree.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem