Consider a realm where this poem
is unread by mortal eyes
not one sentence witnessed here
finds its way to viewer's grace
this happenstance of the muse
tossed like a bottle beyond the shore
without a purpose except to state
dictation meant for higher realms
taunting gods in surly jest
for the pains words can't express
lines inscribed that disappear
perhaps they were never here
the whine with cheese in a poem
now at the end in reader's eyes
with cheerful thanks even as
the void consumes words not meant to last.
© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved.20190829.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A poem not read dies and in the dying leaves not trace A great piece enjoyed