tonight… unrelenting wind and hail is jostling us
our shoppers' hands are scales that balance weight
with bags for ballast… we act in defiance of his bullied howl
we bluster on… heads stooped against his bitter scorn
an umbrella in the road… crushed by heavy traffic
imprints spokes… a filigree of bone… like silvery veneer inlaid
its tattered raven's wings will not take flight
we bluster on… hoods up against the late march sting
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem