A Tanka Prose
In the black-and-white photo, the 16-year-old girl stands in the shade of an old apple tree; her arms folded casually while leaning against its trunk. Black hair in twin braids trail over her shoulders; her head turned slightly toward my house. Her lips parted and playful.
the edges
of her dear john letter
blackening...
'I like the way you look
at me, ' she once said
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem