(For lack of a better name.)
endless moors.
the sheep knew,
so did the cows.
I do believe
our heather is lacking in purple.
is it possible the painters forgot to come?
the grass is brown
and the rocks are faded
and the lake is gray.
a little duller.
maybe i should ask the pigs.
tourists, even, are droopy.
maybe that's just the smell.
windows are fogged.
horses look suspicious.
i should talk to Henry.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem