Paddleboats passing by
tooting their horn
clouds in the sky
on tuesday morn
the water ripples to the shore
crashing into the bank
where a town is no more
due to natures spank
the town closed after the flood
nothing left to be seen
except the mud
and a tree with a lean
it was named after uncle john
under the cloudy sky
now he's gone
buried nearby
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem