pouting sky
grey out of malice
a single naked tree
blacker than the
void beyond which
there is no recognition
the recently
discarded snow
lying fetal, whimpers
at the base of the tree
small scraps
of paper
love poems, perhaps,
sulk about
the ice man's
heartless breath
you, leaving
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem