he watches the ground
as I count the clouds
we walk down the street
without making a sound
the pavement's uneven
so we measure our steps
and we leave what was kept
for time to recollect
I may, for a moment
bind our eyes without thought
and borrow excuses
to burn beliefs that I bought
wind erases the warmth
left behind as we pass
where we stood for a moment
until the moment wouldn't last
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Very precise but elaborate too! Thompson, this poem deserves a TEN from my side...keep posting.