the pieces do not remain as pieces
in a certain longing they come back and
find a way to compose themselves again
like a quilt
an abstract painting of green leaves looking like
some cuttings from a woman's old dress
and black twigs protruding from a canvass like
some needles and pins
reuniting into a unified creature in space
a porcupine fish perhaps
or a brown cone from a pine tree
images of the past summer
streaks of light at twilight after two shadows
finally say
'it is over'. They had enough.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem