I stood on the shore and listened to the water splash gently against the broken pieces of the concrete that had been placed there by hands that were not my own.Hands with artistic ways.
I looked out across a vast landscape of water and clouds and thought of all the things that didn't belong to me.
Things that existed that I couldn't touch or see.
Things that were acquired or purchased, second hand,
in an attempt to find an era , a place in time that was not now.
I looked down, through the distasteful water and saw pebbles brought downstream with the current.
..where the river meets the bay ,that's where you will find me.
Locked away in a lonesome floating cottage , rainboy with a pen in the hand.
Humming a tune that has been stolen from another place in time,
a house borrowed, second hand ,from an era that was not mine.
