I watched him
shuffle along the
dirt path, his
trailing cuffs gathering
dust, hoisting his
ample belly as he
ambled along, rolling
unevenly from side to side.
I observed him
struggle in full
gestation, his rotund
middle heaving with
his feeble exertions,
breathing heavily,
sweating buckets,
laboring under a
childless pregnancy.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem