One can travel so far
be so distant
one is gone:
alone in
no where
even with a phone
and email.
Alone in one’s mind.
Friends’ wrinkles, eyes
can not quite be recalled
and distances
make news a shadow
that satisfies nothing.
Half way around the world
is as far as we can go I thought.
So wrong again.
Not quite so distant as my friend Bill.
His death left only regrets.
Once it seemed miles causes fabrics to tear.
But death leaves one in rags of solitude.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
death leaves one.. very good write, thanks.