A flow of consciousness
Silent and real reflections
Nothing smart or written to please
Watching the inward river
Deep in the forest of spirit
Elven eyes
Creatures of Blake
Surreal honesty
Poetry of shorelines
Loneliness beyond ice
Funerals meshed in dreams
Fire like a moon in the cold
Plays left early
Crowds with no identity
She is too afraid to reach for me
Apathy
Celtic lakes
Refined silk stockings
A room where prayer lives
Stars that never grow old
Fields with blossoms
Rings snug on a wrinkled hand
Hands folded in the calm forever
Defined in the scales of the ages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem