Tuesday morning, January,24,2023 at 8: 14 a.m.
Listen. Cup your hands to your ears.
I whisper your name. Ghosts in chains
whisper our names. Longevity. Duration.
Being. Abiding. This our hope. (Before...)
This is what life is about. Yes, being. And being
together, you and I. (There is no substitute.)
Marking time together and separately. We abide.
The present age. Gendai. Time, place and history,
in our time. Our time together again. Touch my hand.
Hold me. Hold onto me with your hands. Hold me dear.
Our hands, touch does not lie, deceive, trick the way
our eyes can do. Whisper something into my ear
to make me happy. Make me happy, if only for awhile.
That while. And shimmer. Shimmer anyway. Shimmer
before my eyes. Like her. Like Sophie B. Hawkins.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem