As a poet who writes for pleasure
I find that my skill is hard to measure
Just the other day I read a poem of mine
From remote and distant days…line by line
From start to end by someone I once knew
Words materialized into mellow hues
Reminiscent of a black and white photo
Bursting forth with a multicolored glow
Existing under multiple layers of time
I barely recognized features that defined
The reintroduction made memories real
Amazing how the words made me feel
Meeting myself face to face
In a different phase and place
The sensation was difficult to evaluate
The past and now began to reintegrate
Thoughts came forward through the haze
The person I was still exists in many ways
Older, yet my mind still has playful moods
Thankful for life and all that it includes
7/23/09
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem