Coming storm
blackens the sky,
looming, black sheet metal
threat, covering everything.
I examine myself in
the mirror,
and I'm satisfied
for now
with myself inside
and out.
If this is the last
day,
before I am swept up
in torrents of
wind and sleet,
I can at least say
I was content for this
one day.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A nice flowing poem. A great write.