It’s bad news, I admit,
having these great seats
for a big game like this
but now there’s rain
and everyone's
leaving
heading for cars
but the storm's a rainbow
compared with this text
on my cell phone.
It’s from an old friend
recently retired
after doing 40 years
as a janitor for
a pittance in pay.
He moved to Florida
on social security
and rented a trailer.
He quit smoking finally,
said it’s cheaper to chew.
Today the doc told him
to wrap things up.
Gave him six months,
maybe a year.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem