for Nimal Dunuhinga
This tree
grows still
a child's mind
a bedroom window
This house
this window
gone but for
frames' crater
now
once was
home memory's
red dirt
O stand radiant-starred late afternoon
O stained stark shadows' black frieze
astonished stooped man
time's wee piss-boy
damp bunk-bed mattress fears
O stand glazed from edges
gaze to bark
vine maps of escape
Iron shadows
impress long into
wet pit
sun shards
spy glass
throat sore
Cracked song for dirty boots
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem