alone
along
the water
hands
in my
pockets
stumbling
toes
digging
into soft
clay
faint
wind
crackle
of
reeds
her
scent
on the
slow
air
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Impressive penning...33 syllables CAN paint a poetic pictorial grandeur when the choice of parlance is imbued in resplendent imagescape...like the above work is...Kudo's...Well Done...~FjR~