"...the imperious radiance of sheer presence..."" - George Steiner
the thin-skinned kid
does arrive only to fall
into Presence after
all having stalled for
many years perched
noon-blind on child-
hood's top step as if
as if out of a long
unconscious state
a distraction
or sleep
heart vehicle retread
ready for further slide
into 3rd or higher
gear in or with what
is unknown ahead but
secure sure traces w/
no rote map to guide
at the wheel at last
the boy in me asks
"are we lost yet? "
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem