The festive table
Stands alone
Robed in it's finest
Holiday garments
But there is no warm glow
Of flickering light
And laughter
No spiced scents
Drifting through
Like candied wraiths
It stands alone and empty
The cold harsh light of day
Casting it's shadow on the floor
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Love the gorgeous imagery evoked by this interesting poem.