On a trail,
A trail abandoned long ago,
A bride once swept,
Her gown across,
Across the rocks and soil,
As she ran,
Ran away,
Never to be seen again,
The trees clawing,
Catching what they could,
An apricot ribbon they did,
A wind tore it away,
In anger the rain plastered it down,
Down to a rickety fence,
Across the fields to an ocean,
An ocean of trees,
Twisting around, holding on,
To a slender branch.
Walking aimlessly on an empty trail,
You glance at the dead wood,
Standing, spiraling to the sky,
You watch the ground when the wind howls,
Like you don’t want to catch an eye staring,
You know you don’t belong,
You know you’ll never be wanted,
But this road is your friend,
You know every leaf, every creature that lives,
And something catches your eye,
A strip of fabric,
Caught in a branch,
An apricot ribbon.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Great imagery in words chosen here. An easy tenner was given here. God bless poets-MJG.