'Platform Light'
Between the last stair
and the first step down,
they carry both airs —
hay‑sweet and brick‑warm
—in the same breath.
The train waits,
engine ticking like a clock
that belongs to neither house,
and I stand in its glow,
already partway gone,
already halfway home.
.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem