New Child Poem by Arthur Wall
New Child
There was a time
when nearly every kid
I saw walking alone
along the road
looked like one of mine.
Same height, same gait,
same clothes,
same colors.
I blessed each shape
and silhouette,
even, drawing closer,
knowing
she wasn't one of mine
nor was he.
Today a figure, shape,
or shadow
blesses me, thinking
of me,
in his
or her
mind eternal:
this is one of mine,
to possess
and be possessed.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/2/2024 5:51:21 PM # 1.0.0.1119
