dark mirror, hiding
away the begging hours
of finicky time, we flush
with pleasure when you
are warm to us.
we have no false god
pained with thorn
bleeding with sun.
you are all the god we
know. confronting us
at dawn, fresh, when
evening lies forgotten.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Such a nice poem, Diane allen. You may like to read my poem, Love And Iust. Thank you.