A Haibun
Sunlight slants through the window in bars of gold, collecting in a pool around my feet. Shrouded in her own darkness, my muse moans and screams. At her side, I keep yelling, 'Push baby, push...' The final few words have clung to the walls of her womb for hours.
last remnants
of afternoon light...
half-finished poem
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem