People come into our lives.
Some smile,
some growl
and others
have no time.
But there is the
rare occasion when
through twist of fate
or meeting of minds,
two hands reach out.
One finding the heart
and one relocating
in the crotch.
And, when they leave again
we are left,
strangely befuddled
with the
lingery of
memories.
OK, you got me with the crotch line, I had to laugh. But very good. Thank you.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Excellent layering of imagry.