Crow lost its feet for wings
when tried on twigs.
Pepper vine climbs
skies for parrots,
Smell of bats eaten mangoes
on dew wet earth of sun rise.
Silence of snoring earth
In smoky sleepy bright morning.
Pots still in the well
with their tiny necks
filling in my guilt.
Loneliness that waits
in the endless twists.
Snapshot oflast face
of the loved when lived.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem