one brown eye it does more than wink.
and the face it puts on comming down.
even when the large thick blue ropey veins.
and there i stand alone in the rain at attention.
there is some thing more and it's seething.
moss moves and life can start without wind.
half of the moon is pock marked with craters.
comming down fast and picking me up.
i am just a diplomat bravely trying to do my job.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem