From Italy to shores unknown.
She convinces she leaves footprints.
But her doors and windows...
Expose dust from a lack of being cracked.
As she sits aging in a familiar rocker,
With a knack to dream in spinster silence.
Romanced by novels.
And escapades she tapes and replays.
She is afraid she can not erase,
The age that daylight shows on her face.
Hiding...
She charades between chapters,
Fading.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem