A Tanka Prose
Abandoned by a coyote with a forked tongue, we are as forlorn as orphaned children lost in Arizona desert. When you stand in front of me, looking into my eyes, what do you know of the grief in my heart? And what do I know of yours?
this windy night
descends with snowfall...
a child migrant's life
merely the dash
between illegible dates
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem