While little E and big L visit
The butterfly garden, I write.
The roof keeps me safe from sun
As I await them for an ice cream respite.
The hyper activity of a day
Playing tourist in our own back yard.
I study the young on spring break
But envy only a few - they young lovers -
Who gently touch each others hand.
As I silently wonder if they have built
The necessary foundation to make their tenderness last
Against the storms that are sure to come.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem