She reminded me of women, I used to see as a child, at family gatherings. Tired, not quite steady,

You have to, jump in with the sharks. They won’t eat you, unless you let them. You dodge and dive,

There’s not enough time, Not for seeing the world, no no But feeling alive, To hold your friend when they weep… For being in a hole,

Brush teeth, Planes overhead, People I’ll never meet, Some words just dance, your words dance.

I couldn’t think, of anything worse. From the outside, Looking in. Draining your soul away,

To sin enough, is to sin forever, shine dull nor pure, but fear!, fear the end. Does it end after night, or at the end of the day!

Etched, in the valleys of the moon, staring from or to. Blazing the night, The autumn heat returns,

Oh dreaded day, bring light! Nothing less than the beauty that you are, The whispers and winds in mind, Shackled, deranged, slightly mad,

The port city and it’s secrets, The Sicilians drapes hung in the… The ghosts beyond the limestone wa… The sad holy brush of James Walsh… The sanctity of the unknown,

It takes balls, hell, it takes every inch, to keep spinning. To talk of flowers, or the death,

The doubt of spring, makes winter warm, when all is cold is now gone, The sparkle of night, and the seasons change,

I remember youth and senses, the smell and touch. Fascinated by breathing, in and out. Sunday walks,