Caged, winged dancers are trapped
Within iron-barred Things That Can’t Be Said
Drifters take round-stool seats,
Order something
Heady and toxic
Watch the dancers
Struggle for release
There, in the shadows,
Like dry, curling paint,
Lie dancing, dying words,
Things Left Unsaid,
Friendships Now Dead
“How sad! ” said Sadie,
Righteously wiping her scarred
And roughened hands
“Someone oughta say something! ”
(October,2006, Los Lunas, New Mexico)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem