The soft percussive sound of your wings
beating on high as they head into
the blue infinity of sky…
Fizzy jazz shaken into my martini
along with the green olive
at the end of a used-up day…
Fire fading across the hearth,
my heart tick-ticking in slow time
with the flickering flames…
Old photos where the past lives on,
and youth stays in its glossy place
beside laughter and love…
Your soft breathing as you sleep
deep beneath your dreams,
while stars light your way across the night.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Words have a cloudy feeling