what straddles morning and
milks color from the dawn,
rushes down empty streets
into coffee-shops for kicks-
what intrudes on conversations
between bodies,
overhears movement and
the slightest alteration of self.
what I love most is irrelevant and futile,
but precious and precise-
what I crave most is tender and chaotic,
stressful and shy-
the way you looked at me just now,
burned a destiny in me, or maybe a destination.
-
you reminded me
by putting one foot in front of the other,
I have a journey to end or to begin.
what ties me to the day or the year-
to earths or heavens
Absolutely stunning, though I had trouble understanding the beginning. It sounded, from the way you started out, like you were describing something, but you gave it no true name. I figured it out by the end, though. Very nice.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
you reminded me by putting one foot in front of the other, I have a journey to end or to begin. great stanza and even greater poem thank you again for such wonderful words.