365:241:50

Dreamy, staring into space, hearing the harmonica, the breath coming from your lips, guitar stung from your finger tips. The words, the songs are not yet the same, mixed up in your own little way, beautiful and thoughtful of the way things should be, even the stones would be pleased to see.

The Vans are appearing, on the trail to the past, those of no color, bright, beautiful task. Caught in the moment of way back when, of a true love and a best friend. Life was chatoyant and elegantly true, like a precious stone that sometimes makes me blue. The cards are staring me in the face just like the man that has been long ago erased.

Memories come that have been locked inside, the only one that knows, a man that once was but now just a ghost. Maybe your presence has meaning beyond all this, maybe to remember what was high on your list. Maybe a sign or a clue, maybe just a reflection of a heart that is true. What ever it was or whatever maybe, thank you for sending this friend back to me.

Much Love 💜 Much Life