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.
A salty breeze cannot be replaced
Like a jacob to an esau grabbing at the heels
In the mind of a being that doesn’t recognize the sunset
Over an alien ocean dark as wine in odyssean eyes
Ruled by cruel poseidons bearing tranquil heads.
Even a thousand repeating sunsets cannot be the replacement of that one
That first bought dusk to the eyes taking in light for the first time
Accompanied by a salty breeze.