The wide red road, it rolls so far
Red dust staining scalding tar.
He walks alone, friend by his side
Heat haze hiding measured stride.
His broad brown hat, salt stained and holed
Is known along the long red road.
Strangers know him, they nod hello
He spares a smile that says good bye,
It's nice to see you, I've got to go.
His friend keeps pace and never slows
She's always with him and hardly there
The hot red road, the silent pair.
On they walk till town surrounds
The one tall lot is where they're bound
Into blessed shade they step and sigh
Broad brim hat now by his side
The woman nods, and turns to tap
The bar now holds the salt stained hat
As cold dew beads down frosted glass
he slowly sips, his first, his last
By his stool his friend will wait
Till ritual through and thirst is sate.
Then to the door the pair will turn
Hat to head, and to the red road, return.
I wrote this simply as an exercise in imagery. I truly have no idea what I'm doing, so any constructive criticism is welcome.