cause now you're my morning glories.
my old wheels whirring.
and the young taste of
domestic beer burning.
you're a front porch swing
broken wind chimes ring
an old hyme book
and hearing family sing
you're a leading hand
the definition of a man
and the twirl
of a misplaced swing dance
your the smell of Marlboro Reds.
laughter and kissing in bed.
making plans too big
and leaving doubts unsaid.
your the fear in my gut
racing Cameros on luck
and old highways
after a couple of Buds.
Your'e the rush of love.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem