Standing about, thoughts gently look for recognition,
letting me notice them in my own time.
Coding each with a rhythm that fits them in their
attitudes and behaviors.
Still and quiet, finding each one to be superbly naïve
and innocent in depths of a childhood once upon a time.
Living now and again within each one as it is remembered
in times of happiness.
Loving this good time as I write so conscientiously in
this poetry journal.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem