I stopped, well, grudgingly perhaps,
to let a pedestrian cross.
But he didn't cross - he sauntered...
Before he'd reached the other kerb, ,
I swerved (angrily) by,
almost brushing against him
with my dusty bodywork.
How can people be so inconsiderate?
At least I stopped at the zebra crossing,
which is more than Spaniards do!
(This happened in Spain.)
I had to wait at the next lights,
and they weren't far off...
He caught me up.
He tapped on the driver's window,
looking, well, intense...
I lowered it a little:
I'm not a coward
but he looked fit:
I didn't want to be thumped!
He showed me his card.
He was a plain clothes cop,
or maybe just off duty...
He said:
'I'll cross the street in my own sweet time.'
I said 'I understand that, officer,
but I've had a rough day...'
He said 'Me too! '
We parted.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Just your luck eh Robert? ...good poem....thank you