It was a tranquil day
Sometime in late July
As the drizzle played
With the green moist grass
And bewildered raindrops fell
Ringing to the ground
She quietly sat
On the garden bench
Not wishing to go inside
For within the home
Hungry saddened memories
Stalked the halls
Her dreary mind
Would not allow her
To pass unnoticed
While the only joy she had
Were the caged birds
Singing to be fed
It was late July
When the sun departed
Her damp wet clothes
Clinging to her skin
Made her tremble
As she kept hope alive
By repeating like a mantra
Over and over again
'There’s always August'
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem