Reflection Poem by Roy Ballard
Reflection
How can it be
they cannot see
what's clear to me?
My colleague,
even he
gulps helplessly.
It's not as though
their brains are slow;
they just don't know.
They never thought it through
nor wanted to
see something new;
with unconcern
did not discern
how clock hands turn
(not all the time, OK?)
how in the mirror somehow they
go round the other way.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/25/2024 11:07:56 PM # 1.0.0.1119
