It was the lamplight
the taciturn shadows mocking
each other.
The long gone looks of everywhere.
It was how the moments became
chalk marks on sidewalks, colored
life unframed.
Painted concrete painted with cracks.
It was the sound of your footsteps
walking away into shadows
of everything.
The stars looking on with old light.
Can you run forever dear, or at least
for as long as “far enough”
means.
Maybe just this once.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Evocative imagery, sustained throughout. Excellent poem. Rgds, Ivan