tame them
do not quit
be ready with
the tenderness of
your hands
water them
with your thought
make them a house
a bed,
a stair where they
can sit and
view the road
where cars pass by
make dust
and leave that mark
of another emptiness
again
the aftermath of which
shall be
order.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem