Invisible borders
Unseen are lines drawn; these borders in our hearts, in our minds
In cities, in the towns
As is love divided, which is first, which one next, why and where
These borders are somewhere
Parts of town we have learned are not ours, divided, we are guests
That is what we expect
Without words, on corners, we foresee to observe their culture
Saturday, Finch-Bathurst
I looked for Jewish lure, Jewish move, orthodox or even agnostic
Not a dude or young kids,
But in fact, headphones on, bodies shook as dancing; heads-nodded
I could think of elsewhere
Till I saw a woman well-dressed; wearing hat, near her a man walked
"This is that"; I though then.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem