Sometimes,
When I first
Lie down in
Bed at
Night,
My heart
Is still running around the house
Like an unruly seven year-old boy;
The type to whom my mother would say,
“When you start out laughin’ like that,
Somebody always
Ends up cryin’.”
I want to
Grab him,
Sit him down
Hard
In a chair,
And say,
“There!
There’ll be no
More of that.
Be
Still and
Quiet.
There
Will
Be
Peace.”
His shocked wide
Eyes
Will float and bob
Up and down
As he slowly
Nods.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem