the old man,
ever the light sleeper,
sleepily peers
out the frost
encrusted window.
yawning,
he turns to his chores
as the wind cries out
in anguish
for the old man
to answer its plea.
'hush'
he quietly calls
to the child
who playfully falls
against
the snow laden shelter.
(1-25-1974)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem