Lilium Poem by Fiona Wright
Lilium
The evenings have grown sharp now.
Light slinks through the blind slats,
the gaps beneath lintels.
The scent of liliums on my opening door.
The shower drips.
A tidemark of baked soup
scums an empty bowl.
Blunt male laughter. The crunch
of bottles through ice.
The windows fidget
as the trains pass.
The scent of liliums.
Their split pollen pods
husked on the floor.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/7/2024 7:11:40 AM # 1.0.0.1119
