Dusk is doomed
when I shovel light
in darkness
fail to live
the intensity
of prayer
moistened eyes
draw me near divine
for a while
soul is light
and flowers and wings
furl in moon
but soon pain
overwhelms my space
and tears swell
fingers feel
decaying fireflies
in lamplight
voice turns blue
I scare my vision
there's no grace
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem