Racing down the 51 in a yellow cab, on the way to an
appointment, relaxing, listening to KOOL radio and
it's many great oldies.
Sun shining brightly upon me in the front seat, traffic
flowing smoothly, keeping time with rhythms on the radio.
Seeing jets taking off and landing for seconds at a time
at Sky Harbor Airport, wishing I were on one, heading for
New Jersey.
Instead, going to the doctor again, hoping one day soon,
to be visiting relatives in the town where I was born.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A lovely nostalgic penning with a peace in mind. Sometime it enjoys the songs having the ride, sometime, seeing the planes taking off , thinks about to go to the birth place.. Enjoyed the state of mind, reading this poem