We Can Not Direct the Wind, But We Can Adjust Our Sails

Puddles of the salty west,
never say goodbye

for springtime blooms and summer’s tunes
will call upon the skies.

Mark my life with riverbeds
dug into the streets,

for when I walk I whistle to
the fish beneath my feet.

Skip the glory of your curse -
rain is not so bad.

Naked in the ocean’s wake -
the best day I’ve ever had.

Cleanse my skin of yesterday,
pull tears from head to toe,

collect in puddles on my palms
before I let you go.

-Art & Coffee 

4/9/14

And back to Montreal and cold...