Blue Minute Poem by Tom Goff
Blue Minute
January cloud, shot through with light blue light:
not nomad. Nimbostratus
refuses, though cold, to snow.
Nacreous gray-blue not rack stuck flat, flat.
Cloud mind like mine, except it can’t
take stock of that Western Bluebird’s flitful
fret, lightpost to lightpost. Take heed.
Take heart. Take note: No sunlight, yet
that small blue back, bright, bright, bright
-quick! -wings off.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/26/2024 5:56:46 PM # 1.0.0.1119
