Double parked
in a no-comment zone
A writer sat quiet
unheard and alone
Idling vacant
the needle on E
Silence impended
no crossing of T's
Given to vagrancy
nothing else left
Sounds in the distance
begone and bereft
A Muse but a figment
of something not heard
His vacuous instant
—devoid of the word
(Dreamsleep: January,2023)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem