After five
Friday after five and she is
On roadside, at red light
She stands, firm and sharp
But her eyes lead the talk
Winkled are and in thought
I wish I could read right!
What is she thinking of?
"What the hell is my job? "
"What to do in days off? "
"Will I find the right date? "
"What about my husband? "
"Poor are our children? "
I stop behind light and do watch
I read her but her signs
Like ancient carvings of a stone
Archeologist; I make up…
"She thinks of where to shop."
"Calculates expenses and income."
And on, on, on…
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem