Ectopic heart
beat. Acoustic
neuroma. Sleep
apnea. Getting
older blessing
against alternative.
Neither hate
nor repair.
Immediately
the woods were familiar
bunchberry, clintonia.
Red spruce, yellow birch.
Heron rowing
northward overhead
a sign: good luck.
Or was it just
a crow. Rock thrown.
Don't know.
Life's ending.
My sons
have each other
for laughter
at their tragedies.
Avalanche, cataract.
Clean house or
run for president.
Power and talent
are bones in your feet.
Nature's the bed
you'll sleep in.
Thyroid storm.
Screech
of the long-eared
owl. Even if
portent of death,
it's welcome.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem