It's quiet
this Saturday
the wind rustles
through the branches
Little moves
ashore or at sea
the clouds insouciantly
drift by overhead
The day will come
in weather fair or foul
that the silence will not
be broken again
Whether I'll be here or not
it matters not
A presence is always
missed when absent
Well conceived and nicely encapsulated in persuasive poetic expressions with artistic brilliance. Lovely indeed. Thanks for sharing.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A refined poetic imagination, Guido. You may like to read my poem, Love And Iust. Thank you.