Rumbling through the finally dark house,
I welcome relief from this day of solitude and
piece together the silence of a too-worn memory...
accepting that home is where the loss is.
Losing parents, children, pets, intimacy, self
respect...in the downhill rattle of broken dreams
and scars of hope left wanting, weighing its own
emptiness by secrets of degree.
Fierce acres of youthful glow burn up the
shadows like white lightning in my hands
and troubled sleep fills my tiger-lined room...
the long thunder recapturing its losses.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
it packs a punch. it has that wow factor that you expect from a poem but don't get it. wonderful job. :)