Listening to Tom Jones from the good old days,
songs and rhythms filling my mind with memories
where I happened to be at the time.
Jumping and loving, taking the time into measures
of yesterday, living in the bluened light of a
spiritual heavenly bliss.
Being contented, happy, light and carefree, even
though sitting here, waiting to have blood drawn.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem