On the Way
So love
keeps bumping me along,
like an old bus
grinding up the highway,
with the past asleep on my shoulder,
missing the moon,
and the deepening dark,
the spangled river's sobbing,
the still rushing sense
of a breathless journey
to someone waiting
in Time.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Beautiful rendition of words nicely encapsulated from the heart. Lovely and very passionate. Thanks for sharing Florence.