I thought I had enough
wad on my hands to comfort
Sufficient salinity in eyes
For a crying duet
My diction I thought would
Tag any grief that is narrated
I thought I had aged enough
To lend sanity to youngling
Till you touched me!
Wiped my tears!
Told the untold!
And added silver in my hair
Never perhaps had tasted manna of tears
Or cried so musically
you may think they have dried, but the tears never quite stop....grief takes many forms, it simply waits to pounce...I really like this piece, it's quite unnerving.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The rationale in the first stanza, so well presented, fell apart with 'Till you touched me' (the magical line) that knows no bounds. Excellent writing! Karin Anderson