If the stars still shine as bright
in the dusty field
behind the road,
will the fireflies still collect
in the dark and mysterious air
like a brilliant orange lantern.
And if the little cherry tree
set aside the house
still produces 200 sour treats,
will the corner red sofa still be as soft
at the old library
just up the street.
Will the cracked sidewalk still resound,
with orange balls and swishing nets,
a tribute to sweating heads and dirty brows,
Will the old playground's teetering swings
still be filled at 5: 00 AM-
with troublesome teens having stayed up
to see the new sun rise?
will still there be a kiss on the porch?
before the snow falls again.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.