Night Shift
You’re sleeping with your back to me tonight.
I reach around. Still sleeping you say: Later.
Down at the lily pond the amorous frogs
are singing through the darkness for a mate.
I doze till morning when the voyeur sun
nudges your promise as you turn to me.
A deer moves passed our window; cherry blossom
decorates her mouth moistened by dew.
When we make love the deer tip-toes away.
We disengage. I leave to make you coffee.
The birds and the bees are busy finding food
their music gentle; in bed we watch the news.
A suicide bomber kills himself in error:
the president kills, again and again, to plan.
Britney enters re-hab once again.
The poppies flourish in Afghanistan.
A boy steps on a mine when fetching water.
His blood and bone colour the desert soil.
A Nigerian girl is stoned to death for love;
her villagers starve as rich men steal their oil.
My love and I are warm beneath the quilt;
with fair trade coffee to assuage our guilt.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem