Revealed like the strange regresses of a crowd
After the baseball game is over:
The heavens fluctuating over the life in the sea:
Schoolyards in Colorado
Metamorphosing as they cry tantalizingly.
The cemeteries creak like old
Swing sets
The older and new lovers have abandoned,
Leaving only the penumbra of the moon
That sways over everything,
Positioning the crickets over the wildflowers,
And causing the moss to grow over the abandoned
Horns of kings.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem