as i sit on one of
those veranda benches
at the second floor of
the house
as the moon wanes behind
those dark clouds
there the gecko crawls
on the ceiling beside the
lighted bulb
waiting for its favorite
moth, mosquitoes, and
even lost cockroaches.
tonight it may rain
and the mosquitoes may
not be around to satisfy
its hunger.
it is steady on the wall
silent on its feet or hands.
ready for the ambush....
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem