Snow,
flecked by moon made mica.
Cold, windless air—even
the roar of the woods
is faint tonight;
And faint, too,
the creak
of my leather jacket—faint
As the rigging of a galleon
heard across the seas of time....
While overhead
Orion faintly flickers.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I love this Larry! I spend alot of time on my porch and this really touches me. I love your use of details like the way you mention that he's wearing a leather jacket without saying ''In my brown leather jacket with the zipper and the pocket.....'' You just faintly mention it and yet it puts the details there for the picture you've painted. Very nice. Sincerely, Mary