Outside, in a cloudless sky
I try to decode scattered wakes
In cuneiform, made by noiseless airplanes-
At right angles to each other, unfurling curls of silvery rickrack
Half tame robins are everywhere, heads cocked
Combing the grass, Fibonacci style
Hoping for the perfect birds eye-
The ambient worm in muddy writhings
The breeze unraveling random love notes
Like trailing kite tails, over newly bared skin
A sensual overload impends, of flying things and air currents
My spirit itself longs to be borne upward now
Home, to the floating ocean
Home, to the plain of stars.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem