Jumping into a twist of oldies, stomping feet and memories in time, allowing tempos to surround those in the awakening beginnings of tomorrow.
In synch with exacting thoughts as they flow continuously into my mind.
Scouring the crowd, watching smiles fall about, landing softly, gently in this poem, standing in realms of greatness at Buddy Stubbs.
Taking in the entire sound of yesterday, including tours of age-old motorcycles.
Young and old, enjoying the beauty of this day, all together being entertained.
Solace conforting each of us in individual ways.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem