i wore shoes of lavender
feet touched heavenly ground; grew warm
basked in the sun
baked and turned
the most angelic, swarthy
golden brown.
-
apples fell from treetops
the miles to the floor
just distance dissected by branches
flashes of purest green.
-
we'll catch it before
it smashes to ground
and turns rotten
with worms at its core.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem