hey irish boy, hope to see you everyday.

hope to see and talk to you. again. at the bus stop.

i enjoyed our conversation. even for a little time. in the bus.

will we see each other again? hoping so. where we first met.

giro d'italia in una settimana...

pics? next time i write a journal...

this poem was made about/for me by a close friend. unedited...can i relate to this?


breakfast

morning dews and sunny rays
this is the end of my usual days
weariness and bloodshot eyes
my mind asking for a sleep
when suddenly you walked into my ailes
i forgot i needed sleep.

beautiful day indeed, mountain crispt air.
pine scented breeze, country style breakfast you bring.
my pale heart turns red
as you made me realize i've found my wing.
i mean wings. are my cheeks turning red?

how long can this last?
you have robbed me of my heart
never wake me up, never in this cast
this is what you bring
beautiful mornings and pantry breakfast





signed
dhc
06-26-06
10:15 pm