Visceral solo
Reaches crescendo,
Pops like a guitar string
Whose tension grew too great.
For a moment we touched,
But moments, too brief, pass
To spider webbed windshields.
All that remains
Is the time spent too hastily;
Gone in an instant.
Fractured memory fades on sidelines.
Solid-white salvation, just a foot away
The wipers, inept
Cannot wash away your memory
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem