Silent Hill Poem by clawdea benat
Silent Hill
The silence of the wind
the moving head of the chicken
hungry of the dog
in my grandpas's home
appreciate me to feel the nature of thy mountain
the silence of the grass
the remain of the past
echo of the children playing
creep my ear saying
'how great is thy place'
and closing my eyes
feeling every peacefulness and quietness
of this land where i was once belong.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/21/2024 2:45:51 PM # 1.0.0.1119
a silent reminiscing of important memories. I like your poem