Leave behind the distant flame
Leave behind the rose-tinted spectacles
Strike out for the open road
Let the rarefied country air
Flow through your nostrils
By way of escape
Give time to the imagination
Do not berate the Italian man
Who sold you half-cooked chips
See all nutrition as of some value
Treat all people as with love
Look out towards that distant land
Look out across the bridge slung water
Look out, for tomorrow is a Friday
Blue skies will return
With an impressionist's accomplice
Rolled up, flame-red, magnificent setting sun
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| available for kindle here |
