A wooden rocking chair,
On a paint cracked porch.
A small sparrow,
Resting, perched
On the rail.
Rain seeping from the gutters,
An old dog sleeping
Under the steps.
As the Stranger sweeps,
Eyes half closed,
Humming the hymn
Of desire.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Very much like the scene you have created in your verse. Tom Billsborough