Now all the costumes of the day are shed
and put away in closets, bureaus, drawers.
Outside the snow blows round and up and down,
but nothing like the race of storms inside.
Hush.
Color your thoughts in reminiscing shades -
feelings sounds and smells of long ago.
Softly now, peer into tender pasts
and shed the tears not dared be shed before.
Shh, there's a surprise -
today is wide enough to hold it all.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem