I was drifting through
A late August summer day
With a persistent breeze pushing time away
With forceful hands,
The end of a hopeful season.
I was riding in the sunlight
In a beat up car
Playing ancient rock and roll
From the beach boys.
I'd like to discover love again
Buried away in an acorn-like memory
Saved for difficult and emotionally barren times.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem