Last year when the televisions
in the windows across the street
went dark
when it was either time to sleep
or try to sleep
It was at that time
or maybe two hours after
the skateboarder would come by
unseen, of course
since I was not about
to go to the window
and watch
Besides
he would probably
have passed by then
leaving behind an echo
on those cracks in the sidewalk
and the rumble
of the little wheels
of the worn wooden skateboard
I haven't heard him this year any more
funny how hearing the absence of sound
is a kind of sound
funny, isn't it?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Haunting and intriguing. A really cool poem, gets you thinking!