Dust-hazed, last days of summer, September heat
Hangs heavy over this Saturday suburban street
But that which in sultrier weather would sap the energy
No longer lends its laid-back, last-lap lethargy
As pell-mell, helter-skelter, in seething thoroughfares
Mobs of shoppers, castaway for credit-crunch cares
Re-energised after recent rainclouds and gales
Swamp the open-door stores for bargains in the sales
And hundreds of notes start to flutter like autumn leaves
That dropp to the gutters in the breath of the breeze
As the shopkeepers hope for a till-heavy harvest
Of cash to be banked from this squandered largesse
But some start to shiver as they ponder the hints of
The chill that is blowing from the oncoming winter.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Ah yes, so true and soon there will be the holiday sales. '10! ' for observation. Warm Wishes, Marilyn