Only the radio is still here
the movers left
my house, an interplace now
a pause in the street
There, the inner garden
squirrels and tall trees
Standing at the window, warmth
on my face, in my clothes
The room is nicer now
swept, a sunny emptiness
with a windowsill of music
that I will take with me, in a little while
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Room is nicer now, great write