Amid the urban turmoil
Of a rush hour city street
A cacophony of diesels
Joins a mass of stomping feet.
Mix the rattling departure
Of the elevated train,
As the local band convention
Starts out marching once again.
There's the rolling of the thunder
Country music from the stores,
Heavy hammers of the builders
Who are laying office floors.
Overhead the jets are flying
Leaving vapour in the sky
And a chapter of the Angels
Ride a hundred Harleys by
.
As you shelter in a doorway
From the racket and the rain,
I can hear across an ocean
You are whispering my name.
Copyright© Alan Gilbert 2011.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
hmmm...you are whisphering my name...powerful....very nice poem.....i love it...keep it up you can also read and comment on my poem...thanks for sharing this lovely poem