Childhood comes
step by step
climbs the stairs
knocks at the door
"Who's there?"
"Your dead mother"
"Things of the past"
"No one's there"
So many voices beyond our own.
And what if it is we out there
knocking on the door? Or we who went away?
And are alone?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem