Lost in thought, closely scanning surfaces of mountains
close to the highway.
Enjoying beautiful, white, foggy, wispy clouds, coming
down upon mountains, lying in their laps like cuddly
teddy bears.
Images come to mind of little children sitting on
Santa's lap, telling him what they want for Christmas.
A silent, wonderful vision in an Arizona desert morning.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem