2: 17 am,
raindrops
streaking
the window of the bus.
passing headlights
reflecting
each
tiny story
rolling
backward.
awake,
my eyes
watching them
as
the landscape flies by.
i am listening.
(10-09-2015)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
a nice poem, well-composed. thanks for sharing. if you find time please read some of my poems and leave your comments.