my god is writing in sky
whispering wind does fly
gray clouds lower, it should
touch mountains with bolt
'crack in heaven ' i said
i have to go to clubhouse
kind hearted people give
i have a ticket rain check
i waited it might subside
felt my feet heading home
will watch red clay at garros
looping balls, sliding shoes
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem