soft yet constant rain was
falling that day
an umbrella to share
yet both with wet hair
as long as neither were dry
in hands we shared
this black sky; waiting
to swallow the abandoned streets
i showed you talking trees
and told of a man too tall for his knees
you sat beneath the
giant ficus tree
skirt crossed
red jumper damp
blue eyes warm
black hair safe
watching the rain form
bubbles in the fountain
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem