There are no haloes
in the mind,
a blinding flash
can light for seconds
memory of a kind.
Cruel or sweet
no time will tell
the racing thoughts
where those haloes fell.
From past encounters
could they be
ghosts of lost
rationality?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A nice poetic imagination, Plumb. You may like to read my poem, Love and Lust. Thanks
Thanks for your remark. Sally