A black lambskin purse
a status of subtle wealth
caviar leather
mountain avalanche
I am flung against the ropes
the wind packs a punch
willows bend - don't break
weep to the floor - sprout some more
green caterpillars
Fire tempers steel
memory - metals reshape
love is a coiled spring
fossil fuels burnt
life converts all energy
yet - we are stardust.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem