'Thoughts of death
Crowd over my happiness
Like dark clouds
Over the silver sickle of the moon.'
~STERLING A. BROWN~
#######################
I jumped over
the silver sickle
of the moon
& into your
waiting arms again
I was merely
a rose wilting
in summer's heat
with autumn's arrival
rose petals fall
whispered breezes from
slick sable lips
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem