remember when the echoing hurrahs
signalled a few feet closer
to the big screen beyond the stars
when three banks of oarsmen
would take the strain
now there's just another token blast of smoke and flame
behind some scaffolding in a corner of forgottensville
to break the morning's still
and a side-swipe at belonging holding-on and fear
from the juke-box in the corner
at the eatery and pizzeria
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
echoing hurrahs, I like it. thanks. good write. I invite you to read my poems and comment.