Reminding pictures of yesterday, come silently into view,
making sure they are being noticed by intellect.
Being created individually as the clock slowly revolves
through time and back again.
Solitary progress always being practiced and continued
through life.
Suggestions falling by the wayside as I do what it is I
want to do, leaving and heading further into myself.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem