I know i'm not a saint
but i might be your martyr
even if just for a moment.
stranger my eyes to you
the ambience of two hollow
tabernacles passing in
silence under heavy raindrops.
our reflections caught in
the window of a coffee shop
next to the old church
on 11th and clay
you lifted your head to
exchange the glance
that said i don't know you either.
a few more steps past the window
and then there was only
silence and cracked pavement.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This is wonderful. You share with your readers the inherent possibilities and relationships that pass us by everyday.