wrote me
a poem once
that read like
something I
would have written
for a funeral.
you filled it
with black flowers,
I held no rose
my eyes wandered.
a moment
flashed by
in the window
of a streetcar,
the light turns green.
I go again
to the place we met
down by
the river.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
wonderful poem, Ben, there's some James Wright in there