Passing familiar places
I saw a ghost of myself
Walking those streets years ago
The taste of humidity, heat
And the sunshine of early summer mornings
All this future I never would have envisioned
Surrounded with the nievity and innocence
That I thought was long lost.
A different family, a different hope and story
Our paths have drifted
Now I have only photographs
And ghost-sightings through picture frame windows
Fleeting so quickly
But leaving a lasting smile..
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem