Reassembling things as I sit back down after the
intermission, band now up and playing, taking us
down memory lane.
In the past, hearing friends playing everywhere,
following them wherever they happened to play,
then a friend died.
Her husband was lost for a while, then finding
another keyboard player, going out into the world
once again, now playing in memory of his lost love.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem