No one locked their doors, then.
Baseball games stretched from day to day.
Cap pistol justice rode two-wheeled steeds.
Marbles spun like silent worlds in the sand.
Baptized with summer sweat
Slurping water from grimy hoses,
Finally ringed like gnomes beneath afternoon shade.
And no one ever locked their doors.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem