By Thomas Page
This is a series of poems of words that do not directly translate into English. I have tried to capture the essence of the word in a poem.
The snow melts as the dew thaws
Overlooking trees living and reliving
In the fresh heat of spring.
People, matching the flowers, emerge from their houses to be outdoorsmen of every sort.
The creek of barrels as taps mimicking the collection of sap pour out wheat liquified
The wheat of civilization renewed in the equinox
As life again touches your lips.