as you were
counting the seeds
left after the storm
i watch you
closely as you watch
closely what
things
what memories
are left
for both of us
i must have been
so unkind
to cause the furrows
on your skin
it was as smooth
and firm as
a child before
i go beside you
kissing your
forehead
hoping to repair
what damage
was done
the seeds are many
your counting slow
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem