“This poem...”
she said
“... is like...is like
a meniscus.”
“You know...
that thin skin
of surface tension
that water wears
so those tiny spiders
can walk upon its surfaces
...like skaters! ”
“Yeah...”
she said
as if to reassure
her judgement.
“Well, it’s a bit
like that! ”
“Right...? ” I said. “Right..! ”
None the wiser.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem