A higher pitch
could explain
why clouds move
in your presence
a subtle
voice of pollen
the scent
of your flower
Beyond,
the land of divine vanity
In a meadow
not a mere detail
certaintly,
THE detail
petite
hardly a speck
and yet,
it is
the difference
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Hit, post, and run...no one left on base...xxxElysabeth