Sounds of silence form in pictures of crystal tears,
draping my mind with their eternal sadness of loss.
Opening and closing blossoms of tomorrow, depending
on the strength and intensity of grief as it enfolds
me in it's pressing sheets of iron.
Sadly portraying pictures down inner hallways of
family members who have all died and left me bereft
through no fault of their own.
Thinking of yesterday's portraits, seeing their faces
in photographic screens, wishing I could actually
hold and hug them again.
Knowing that I never will again, rasps against me,
tearing the fragile lace of sorrow laid upon my heart,
while crystal teardrops fall now from my eyes.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem