Seeing Poem by Nicole M. Martin
Seeing
Nothing censors
no fog, no cigarette smoke
no blanket, no blinder
and still it goes
on, on, on
the driven dance a
singer’s song
leaving is no option, kept by
leaden feet
the unwilling witness
in all its eminence conceals
that torture which is more
than the fires they promised
all the beauty of death
and the horror of living
the Earth on its unforgiving spit
turns
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/24/2024 12:33:57 AM # 1.0.0.1119
