She came and sat beside me,
As though I belonged to her.
A gentle nudge on my side,
And the cup of tea in my hand,
Got warm once again.
Her fleeting eyes met mine,
And I could hear nothing no more.
The string of my heart,
Was plucked to a freezing note.
What would it take,
To hold on to this note.
And when I feared its loss.
A white feather floated by.
In this feather,
I will hold my note forever.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem