Hearts broken, homes lost
Limbs dismembered; then numbered
Wives slip their one way
'love you notes' and shopping scribbles to encrypted tethered
Circumstances
Buoyant bayonets versus a
guest appearance just once
To put a tiny tantrum to sleep
We all walk alone-
That's how it had to be;
To have gazillions patterns
From clot, dust and nothing
We cannot but walk alone
But I like it Baba to
Ape your gait your limp
And all
Rational riddles, patterns of
Clot and dust or diamond
Of polished boots
I wish to walk behind you
Once before my limbs
Are numbered
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem