The Hotel Room Poem by Lynn Grassette
The Hotel Room
These sheets, though clean,
have been slept in before.
And memories not ours,
are embedded in the floors.
And two people, such as us, I'm sure
have started out these same windows, wistful for something more...
More than this room,
Than just this empty room.
For there's no love here;
No one stays here
More than a night or two.
Sunday, December 7, 2008
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I would like to translate this poem
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4/26/2024 1:54:33 PM # 1.0.0.1119
I hear ya. Well-penned, sweetheart! ! ! sjg