Apophis Poem by Helen Bauman
Apophis
He flounced in
Black cloak flying
in an arc as he turned
The fair flowers shrank against the wall
I thought – terrified
if he turns around and points to
or looks at - me - I’ll dropp dead.
But he was benevolent
As tho’ he sensed my terror - he didn’t press
but kept his back to me during
the whole operation
Then swept out as he had swept in
And we breathed our sighs - of relief.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/25/2024 9:33:07 AM # 1.0.0.1119
