20 hundred hours…is that nautical enough for you? Evening sky was marvelous,
I should have been a painter my anemic words cannot justify the awe the world
still can offer us who are not blind. Blaring horns, the road back home is narrow
and impatient drivers wanted to pass I pulled over and a driver shouted: “fools
like you should be banished from driving. “ Guess he was right. It was darkening
quickly big juicy drops hit asphalt drummed on the roof and hollered: “save us
take us home we don’t want fall on a useless road, we’ll water your rose bushes,
the thorny ones that cut your arms when you try to prune them, we can promise
a dew fresh rose for you lapel.” Right! Like I should be a city gent, I haven’t got
a suit, so there. Afar a fog horned blared melancholically, once I was a seafarer
but the roses I met in harbour bars, had only vulgar beauty to offer. At home rain
fell on old tiles, I made a whisky mixed with rose dew and thought of lost love.
