The winter would be going away
my mother came with my joys of rains,
her cheek was red and slept
in the road of her white hairs,
whose feet were colder than your popsicle
standing in the snow that's paramedical.
my sunny eye-mother that would not close
except the birds bit her cries composed,
flying to catch their baseball with her flute
she took up my kitten to the clouds with you.
you were a bunch of hungry beasts eating up
her meal, she fiddled the fish bone to the hill.
I was poor as a devil howling on the mellow
after her dollar bill swamped my sorrow,
her tears flooded her phone and drowned
me, in her care of now and vow.
after so many years I's back to see her gestures
the big stone fractured, her smile of a creature.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A great poem, A mothers love is all we want.