I don’t like weddings – they remind me often
Of divorces, debts, bad resolves
I ache for the presence
Of flowers at the diner tables
When love’s dinner calls
With wine and roses, simple charm
Which was my solace as a child
I stayed with Bach’s ever-living hum
I don’t like romance – it reminds me often
Of dreamers, youth, bad choices
Though I still ache for the touch
Of eyes in the sleep quarters
When sleep comes, who shall I sip
As I wrung my hands to dream
Of reckless light veils, and the
Ease of angels in the flesh.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem