We are the exhibition
Evolution
Just behind the hedge
Holding onto innocuous white cuppa-cappuccinos
Keeping our nerve
As a pigeon swerves into a laurel
We're just passing through
Rejoice
We view these aliens in bronze and stone
Held-fast by a dead hand
Prepared to launch into the unknown
With.....
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem