Like Portentous Shadows Poem by David Kowalczyk
Like Portentous Shadows
Of a stern and ancient November
afternoon, life retreats from us
slowly yet incessantly.
As it inches away, how precious
becomes the bus driver's warm
welcoming nod, the sincere smile
of a bank teller asking, 'How
have you been? '
How magnified by a thousand
become these small gestures
of kindness, recognized now
for what they have always been:
priceless, irreplaceable treasures.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/18/2024 11:54:17 AM # 1.0.0.1119
A most mature and thoughtful piece.