i felt a tap on my back
and whispers to my ears
i threw back trinkets
to join those footprints
heading to empty tent
feel warmness of sheets
we talk like friends do
then silence came quick
to be disturb by a call
'camp dinner is ready'
i don't feel like going
but my stomach is craving
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem