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Flaming Hearts

Posted on 28th Feb 2012 @ 6:34 AM


flaming-hearts.jpgI sit with Kingston to my back. The wide expanse of the harbour is opened before me. I sit and wait. The water is sprinkled with short fierce white capped waves rushing madly at me, splashing against the infrastructure of the quay, erupting into fine sprays caught and coloured by the evening's gold.

It's good to be alive.

The evening is gentle on me. The splashing of the waves has grown into a happy comforting monotony ‑ like children at play. There is money in my pocket from a hard week's work and the evening holds a promise of something good. 

If Breeze could see me now.

Now this woman comes toward me. As she comes, I wonder if I have seen any one before who has so mastered the art of putting one foot in front of the other. She walks as a woman should, with the easy, natural gait of a thoroughbred.

As she comes, images flash across my mind, of places and scenes I know so well, of times, experiences, dimensions of life and love explored ... of Breeze.