Paper whirly-birds.
They look so much
like pairs of insects’ wings,
spi-
ral-
ing
down
to the ground,
helicopters landing
on springy tarmacs
to deposit
next year’s forest,
gently,
like precious cargo.
Sweet to think
that trees
once had wings
and flew.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem