Space curves
around a flame
is all we know.
Shine on.
With luck
its quick,
a flash,
crackle,
a sigh, and
gone.
Watching smoke
meandering,
wondering.
While you shine, shine, shine, on
Beautiful......(and who said moths were ugly?) ... Sigh! HG: -) xx
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Concise - precise no need to revise! 10! love the economy.... l; ove the idea! R.