darkness still master of the ground
car lights brushing building's side
percolating coffee's aroma holding
breathes, to tempo of thirsting desire
doors giving birth to wrap bulges
slow moving towards warm shelter
greetings fill cold spring morning
sleepy eyes beg for resting place
tired flesh caught by sturdy chair
elbows flat on naked table top
tempting to speak, speak for a few
succumb to listening to things to do
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem