How far will they go
Before we sense them so near…
A week? … A month? …
The bitter part of a year?
How close
will we let them come to us
before we feel the urge to flinch? ...
A yard? … A foot? ...
A mere fraction of an inch?
Will we wait until they become so near
that we feel their breath
against our ear?
Maybe they'll give us
The slightest pinch
As if to say, "We are here! "
Will they bring us news
of impending doom
or words of comfort and cheer?
Will they give us a message
which merits our lives? …
Or perhaps the death of our fear!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem