Your neighbor (the man
with the cane of oak
or yew) may have loved
once -
I can sense it in his step
as he shuffles to get the
mail.
In his step there is
the presence of longing,
of memory,
as if the love is
still vivid in his mind
as if he may receive
a letter from her today
or tomorrow.
(january 2006)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem