Clouds piled thick in my mind -
floating lightly over thoughts which are tucked safely inside.
Waiting patiently in the lobby of distant ideas, time creeps
by as frozen sheets of ice thicken - turning everything into
the present.
After silently talking and allowing ice to melt, the past is
building, ever so slowly - creating it's memories anew and
laying them out in my mind.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem