The Legs Of Animals Poem by Michael William
The Legs Of Animals
tonight
my toungue is swollen.
My hands grow heavy
with words. Nothing within me
can push them into my throat.
Nothing can give them sound
or meaning or thunder.
I throw them against the wall.
Watch them stumble. Stutter toward
your shadow.
They would reach for you,
if you were here; tremble in your hair
like leaves on autumn mountains.
Like the graceful legs of animals
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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8/29/2026 11:52:23 PM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
