The Only Echo In The World Poem by Robert Rorabeck
The Only Echo In The World
The liquor has a new name as she makes love with
Her husband in one bedroom of a three bedroom house;
And there is neither applause or moonshine:
It is raining, and her soul is as quiet as a mouse, and she is the
Personification of her name
As she moves her skin across the brown adobe:
It is the same color, and she has hurt me: hurt me;
It is the only echo in the world,
But what is her name.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Delivering Poems Around The World
Poems are the property of their respective owners. All information has been reproduced here for educational and informational purposes to benefit site visitors, and is provided at no charge...
4/19/2024 4:55:23 PM # 1.0.0.1119
