'However small a change appears, it eventually invalidates a certain way of life'.
Gazing out across the fences and terrace rows of the past nothing remains where a pine thicket once grew long ago.
Fescue stood tall swaying in a summer wind cleansing our souls. Hearts once warm became cold as our lives journeyed down a unforgiving road.
Sunday drives to a distant relatives house were lined with roadside parks, where impromptu picnics took place, slowly disappeared and asphalt took it's toll.
Technology grabbed hold assisting in demise. Where togetherness was once cherished, now fell to devices we all could hold.
Gazing out across the fences and terrace rows of the past nothing remains where the pine thicket once grew so long ago. All that can be said, 'God save our souls'.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem