Settling in here among the elite at Ruth Chris's
Steakhouse, wearing jeans and a tee-shirt, my
usual attire.
Watching women enter with dresses, high heels and
jewelry bangling about, men wearing shirts, button
open and slacks.
Feeling right at home, not being intimated by my
surroundings, enjoying the atmosphere while sitting
here writing.
Activity galore, many people coming to eat their
house specialty, steak, supposedly very good from
all reviews about it.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem