Coasting through the morning, enjoying the peaceful aroma at the
senior center on the billiards side.
Always being accepted and left to myself to write, although
everyone greets and talks to me before I begin my daily vigil,
writing poetry.
Totally into what I am doing, blocking out every sound going
on around me, and concentrating on music of Chopin, I'm
listening to on my walkman.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem