remember how they'd spilled out
down the church steps
shielding their eyes against the sun
so out of focus now
and the million pixels are unable
at a slo-mo re-run
even without the smell and the sound
can't recapture even one frame
of the kaleidoscope
not yet slowing down
inside your head
let alone the taste
and horrors of the infra-red
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem