On Misty Mornings
On misty mornings, the path to the
Barn was so worn down by the
Boots of the people who milked the cows
That it was easily visible to the naked eye
But when the milking was done, and they
Headed back home, they walked through
The tall wet grass just to clean their boots
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem