No time set aside
The words reformed
Again at their own pace
No place to reside
They're written down
On a napkin or empty space
When I try to hide
They find me sure
In mountain or in plain
As new moments chide
The past adieu
—and thunder turns to rain
(Villanova Pennsylvania: March,2015)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem