Eighty-Third Entry, Coronavirus Poetry Diary
"Quiet, all alone"
on the edge of this quarantined world,120 square feet of attic space
yet again, I try
to wipe my drunken shadow
off the wall
but can't erase this shadow
of an infected mind
Note: The eighty-third entry is a sequel to the seventy-seventh entry:
quarantined
for two more weeks
in the attic
we're all alone together:
me, my shadow and my echo
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem