Traveling through America in my mind,
loving the experiences, living them
over and over from the past.
Watching scenery fly by, serene, touch-
ing intellect, puling it into the fray,
wanting it to write poetically of every-
thing I'm seeing.
Relying on an inner photographic screen,
showing every detail as it appears color-
fully within, arranging it all in many
bouquets of blossoming poetry.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem