I swooped down,
To scoop up the unruly papers,
On the floor.
It was so windy,
These papers flew out the door.
I thought this paper arrangement,
Between them and I,
Seemed quaintly odd,
And I questioned why.
The ruffled papers,
Looked up to me,
So quizzically.
Asking for some answers.
That I couldn't give.
And so the papers and I made the best of it.
We chased each other around in the wind in the trees.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem