Mick came through blasting through the front door!
'Will you look at my three-legged Labrador? '
he said, pointing to the arthritic dog following him.
'I could write long-winded poems about Jesus
and me! About my philosophy of life, you know
the kind of blarney dished out daily here!
But no, I write of me and Zarra here, and
of my darling Celia and our life together
in this third floor front flat on Halsted!
I love the mundane and down-to-earth
dinginess of everyday life! '
Celia looked up from her book.
'You mean the bandaged bagged and booted
canine you're hauling across our carpet, Mick?
Sure, Zarra's a darling lass even with all her
infirmities! Now try diagramming that complex
sentence once you two settle down in the kitchen,
darling husband and wayward poet! '
Mick knew then Celia was deep into her reading
of a book entitled 'Sister Bernadette's Barking Dog, '
on loan from the public library.
He led Zarra into the kitchen.
Celia had been a high school English teacher.
Her hobby of diagramming sentences
made sense, even to Mick.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem