Sitting alone
among my books,
growing old within myself
A memory came back
its reflection dim,
as I lifted one down from the shelf
Sitting alone
among my books,
I remembered—then remembered again
More than just words
are on those pages I wrote,
it's my lifetime of searching—in print
(Villanova Pennsylvania: April,2015)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem