Settling into an atmosphere at the Firehouse Gallery,
pinkish, orange clouds sailing above us.
Stage set with music playing, tantalizing my mind to
write, noticing the rustic basics of my surroundings.
All of it adding to a poetical atmosphere, waiting to
recite my poetry in front of others.
The first time in many, many years, not at all nervous,
just anticipating reading so others can hear what I have
to say in prose, about love and life.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem