Back home again in the shallows of your brown yard
After you have stepped back in and only left the stones
Upon the cinder blocks,
And it rains for three miles down the street drowning all
Of the neighbors’ fireworks and in the woods
The sylphlike creatures play with stolen bicycles
And the strange shells who like lost children continue
Calling to the haunted sea.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem