The cars roar through the window
Upsetting the solitude of nothing to do
So we read and rattle the newspaper
That’s not from yesterday and not tomorrow’s.
And maybe we write —
A little poetry if we can, and wait.
Fairly depressing scenerio you present here with just a few well chosen words. Not looking forward to that place, but it's always in the back of the mind. Well done, Fred. Linda
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Nicely sketched portrait...I liked the the irritation at the interruption of boredom...well done.