A gentle lapping lulls my afternoon
to a nodding slumber.
I circle in lazy arcs,
pushed by currents unseen,
digits drifting beside me.
Domed droplets
decorate my arms.
A dragonfly dallies
on an pointing toe,
and sips the moisture there.
It tickles
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem