The lilies
wait on the wall
for the all-telling
sigh where doves huddle
neath cornices
Only capable
of tears
nodding
my cigarette turns on me
One final time
a fermented scene and
rapprochement
come together
but spilled wine
can no longer reclaim
its bottle
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Hi Ken, I like this one very much, I hadn't read this one before. It gives such a visual. Ive seen a few of these fermented scenes. Kind regard as always.