Her right hand
lingers among my poems
collecting words
as a child would
picking up pebbles
her mind
(all seashell & driftwood)
her other hand
hidden behind
the falling waterfall
of her hair
cupped to her
ear
listening to a shell
tell the tale
of an ocean
beyond the ocean
of our minds.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem