seasons and time have quills of bird
from far off
soar over cerulean void
in thin,
in thick air
glide back to their kraal;
will return afresh from far corral
I fly
with broken pinion to quiescent hutch
will not return to this porch
even if all
my cravings are gathered in my quill
to dust the blues of this life
exception of this last goodbye
i say
to you dear Lucy
for all the years of slimy
dark thorny terrain we keel
even when
tempest rock my boat
you fence for my life
when summer sear grasses of the jungle;
the beast in me hunt for flesh
you
gathered lucullan hay for me;
i own nothing to even off your floral tlc
exception of this last goodbye
i say
to you dear Lucy!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem