HUES
With a hungry beak the vulture pecks at a blob
Of coagulated blood
No longer red.
The leaves turn yellow and then fall to the ground
Without a sound.
The russet shadows of the evening
Drape themselves around a distraught mother
Like a comforting cape.
She smiles
A crimson smile.
Quietly, the sky sheds its hues of blue.
In the distance the white snow on the mountains
Melts into tears
Colorless.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem