Another letter may come today
from the same editor at Poetry Paradise
telling me he'll pass on the poems
I sent a year ago because
they aren't a good fit for his pages.
But this time, he says, he'll give my poems
to his brother, the skywriter,
who will emblazon them in snow
against a sky so blue
millions of people will love them
almost as much as I do.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem