In the afternoon I feel poetic# Literature - 文海拾贝
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In the afternoon I feel poetic
In the afternoon I feel poetic
Because the riverbank in Connecticut
Is just like the one in my childhood
Just that sinuous and vivid
Like in my first dreams
The motorists
Resting on the shoulder of the road
Wearing green helmets, jackets, and boots
Are the burgeoning Spring buds
Of the grey and barren land HWY 91
My first dreams
They followed me all these years
Through the bridges and roads I crossed
Like the traffic on the Hudson Expressway
Following, tirelessly,
In the afternoon I feel poetic
Because the riverbank in Connecticut
Is just like the one in my childhood
Just that sinuous and vivid
Like in my first dreams
The motorists
Resting on the shoulder of the road
Wearing green helmets, jackets, and boots
Are the burgeoning Spring buds
Of the grey and barren land HWY 91
My first dreams
They followed me all these years
Through the bridges and roads I crossed
Like the traffic on the Hudson Expressway
Following, tirelessly,
