See how the green vine it grows.
Evening dew, moving so slow
I can't begin to keep pace.
Open petals close,
to rest against the slopes.
I feel oppressed, as I undress
it is Florida's, humid heat.
There is where I turn to you,
as tears run down my cheeks.
Feel me shiver, hold me up,
against the dry green leaves.
And if your longing for last words,
I feel your beating heart.
Deep within it beats I steal,
a rising in my rising chest.
Don't question me at length,
to ask me why it slowly is.
After the glitter fades,
like the sun, I briefly shone!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem