Clean the house of plays,
of clingy vines,
all scents amaze it's nose.
It searches high, so very
low inside each seat,
for peanuts missed,
by it, her every other.
Lace floats, to ear so spatial,
sounds of off beat wave,
leaves that blow, across
each mothers other, with a sister
even daughters, wipe it's teary face.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem