The blush water lilies
all rose up with sunshine's gold
as the little sailor boy
by the pond merrily strolled.

His cheeks were cherry red,
and his locks - fair and yellow
when he sat by the wooden bridge
playing on his father's cello.

And while his music was even heard
in the fisherman's village, so clear and loud
He spotted his reflection in the water and said
,, Boy, to be so young I am most certainly proud ! ,,

Suddenly the sailor boy realized soon,
to the old captain he gave his word
and promised to set sail with him
by tomorrow's merciful noon.

But this rash oath he did regret,
for instead with the village boys to carelessly play
he had to leave the warm dry land
and boldly sail under skies angry and grey.

Why, Oh why did he ever ran away from home,
and abandon his poor mother who was very ill
to wait for him all  day and all night
'cause he was her only son, true and still

So he stood up and quickly passed the bridge,
thinking of his mother's eyes, colored in brown
And below the mossy ridge he ran
when he saw her weeping in the garden.

,, Mother, sweet mother ,, - the sailor boy cried
and ran up to her hugging her apron, clean and white
,, I do not wish to sail young in the roaring sea
and leave you alone here to die of terrible fright ,,

,, Do not worry ,,- his mother happily said
and his blessed heart was again filled with joy,
for he knew that even if he never would sail to sea,
he would always remain the little sailor boy

Always enjoyed crossing bridges
Looking down to see what
divided the land so

I hoped to see rivers
their flow
I like the waters to be on the go

Sometimes there were
railroad tracks
Sometimes trains with horns blowing back

Then there were trees
sometimes
swishing in the breeze

I loved the bridges
connecting
the Florida Keys

And Ponchatrain
going on endlessly
or so it seemed to me

Never been to Brooklyn
no I didn't buy a bridge
I have a picture of it taped upon my fridge

I crossed the Mississippi on bridges that were high and sometime low
One bridge fell into the river and it's not there anymore

Too bad HP has no picture avatars
I have pictures of the pillars
Still reminding me and Willard

There's something nostalgic about
The smell of
Cigarettes in the rain.

I am reminded of
Nights bleeding over into
The morning
Inhaling whiskey
                        and
Exhaling nicotine

Bonfires on the beach
Only...
I've wandered away from
The fire
My feet sinking deeper
Into dark, cold sand
The cool water only slightly
Tickling my toes

I think of
Waking up
In unknown houses
Unknown apartments
Unknown beds
                        With
Unknown people
Trying to recount
What just transpired.

I recollect
Faces that have
Come and gone
Dancing
                        and
Laughing
About what?

I couldn't tell you.

In the midst of it all
I feel
An emptiness
A hole
Pain and
Also nothing.

I feel nothing.

Yet still
Years later
A 3 AM hotel concierge
Reeking of cigarettes in the rain
Can bring it all back

Whiskey
                        Bonfires
Cold feet
                        Blurred friends(?)
Laughing                        and
                        Hopelessness.

Course smoke in a downpour
Nicotine in the mist
How could I ever miss a feeling like this?