It had been
A very serious summer
His eggs well fried
Pots, unwashed & congregating
3 jubes of happiness
Tormented and beguiled
As they should
As they were predestined
3 fingers of shame
Rained down
Put out & erupted
Various guilt edged fires
Who was that?
In the sky
At the time
There was some doubt
The flames
Had all but
Taken me, down
But never out
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem