the bluster and blunderbuss
of grey skied gusts
keep me home bound for now
though I know I intend
to venture out
at some point
until the bushes cease that
mad flailing
there'll be no persuading me
to take that fatal step
that might provoke fate
into delivering me
unto a soaking
a sudden calm has fallen
yet the tree tops dance on
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem