i slip eel like into the morning,
the days have been slimy this week,
it seems i have not grasped them,
they have stepped away from me,
they have run though my fingers like water,
my feet are moving,
yet i have not noticibly touched the ground,
its like im dreaming,
sleepwalking in an atempt not to
notice how
fast they run by
how ordinary
the clock runs from 8 to 8
and i do things in my sleep,
i cook n clean i eat,
i hold my daughter n
we go to the movies
but even the rich reds of the theatre do not wake me,
today i read your poetry,
it painted itself,
it blows life into my feet,
and i am dancing,
in the clouds looking down,
blowing life into
that wraithlike body,
that now wakes,
cocks its head n smiles, happy to hear your songs.......
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem