Day won't grant me tonight,
Pelting its presence
Burns with delight.
Shadows won't cast me
a line...
Back-stepping blackness
Paling from sight.
Hours hang-on
the vine....
Swaying the seconds
a minute each time.
How I need to fade
lingering light,
How I need the night
tonight.
sinnaminsun 2009
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
it is a pleasure.. to read of the vine.. that knows no bounds.. and recriminates not... the wall it climbs...iip