skin slick
with prayer,
last look at
thin layered
clouds hanging soft
from feathered
thoughts.
I thought of you,
and felt leaves
fly thickly
from tired trees
hung down.
I picked a dream
and imagined what
it would be like
to be
found.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I thought of you. Nice work.