Four be the things I am wiser to know: Idleness, sorrow, a friend, and a foe.
Four be the things I'd been better without: Love, curiosity, freckles, and doubt.
—Dorothy Parker
Deserted streets opened before me like multi-laned
highways of opportunity
no restrictions fenced
phantastic
terrains;
I
heard
lives
lost
in song:
troubadours
romanticizing
love unrequited, relating.
fruitful quests, sighing at perpetual misfortune.
Minstrels enshrined place & time though infinite blue notes
sung ballads, lays a cappella
or accompanied
by fingers
plucking
lute
strings;
dark
stars
twinkle
crescent moon
reflecting sunshine
illuminating bodies that
materialized & waivered like streetlamp shadows.
