Shift Poem by Marc Mannheimer
Shift
Sea changes.
Plate tectonics.
Can mountains feel,
as new ranges shift into place,
the heel of one peek trodding on the foot of another?
And I am changing,
but I don’t know exactly where I’m going,
and I guess I’m healing,
because it often hurts,
but, also, I can often see the sun now, from new and slightly different angles.
I catch glimpses, and I am fascinated by it.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/26/2024 5:17:16 AM # 1.0.0.1119
