Your face,
like the rings
inside trees,
measures my years,
measures my dreams,
measures the distance
of just how far
I fell short.
Your arms, I once walked to
only to wander away,
lay helpless,
tired from another long day.
Our ties slowly fraying,
with each trip
we take
around the sun,
from the weight,
and the bitter taste,
of all that can't be
undone.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Love the contrasts and play between human feelings and natural images