Listen to Incubus, jazz and wake to ska
As rain raps soft to loud, in to out
A thunder rumble of kind storms by
Breakfast might be progressing from
Dancing-over-bubble-rap-immature
To grown-up candlelit summer nights.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
very fine thought and in expression. thanks. I invite you to read my poems and comment.