the sun comes in on the slant
as the day turns on
the sky twinkling in the sea of leaves
the silhouetted trees no longer
black and flat
and birds coo and swoop
past the nightly spider
crawling on the hunt
with his web overflowing in the light
it's warm in the breeze
that smells of dew and grass
what a time to make love
with her that is still awake
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem