Ringing cold. Nameless stars.
A coastal trawler
With a ballast of dead souls
Shaken into the waves.
The night tugs at my sleeve
As a child would do.
Nameless cold. Ringing stars.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
a well penned short poem, Leslie, that speaks of wintertime through a terse but highly symbolic language.. Thanks for sharing