Comings & Goings
The sky fills with light
Wavy lines patterns the hurrying grass
Forget-me-not, forget-me-not
A ghost whispers through the branches
Sometimes it is good to walk backwards
Through dove-white blossom over the low graves
Today, I tell my son
Who will never, now, grow old
His sister has borne a daughter
A springtime blessing
The day turns like a tide
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem