if he flaps his delicate wings
a hurricane starts in my heart
a storm so violent -
we close up the doors and block the windows to keep out the gusts - the gusts
we didn’t invite him
we didn’t ask
and now we have to close the doors and block the gaps with old pillows which are no longer comfortable.
but still he gusts.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem