Someone was always leaving Scenic Route
and never coming back.
The wooden houses wait like old wives
along this road; they are everywhere,
abandoned, leaning, turning gray.
We sat down and wept by the waters
Of Babel, and thought of the day
When our foe, in the hue of his slaughters
The hills are like shouts of children who raise their arms, trying to catch stars.
Like the meeting of the seagulls and the waves we meet and come near.
The seagulls fly off, the waves roll away and we depart.
Starting my day with a morning workout always puts me in a positive mindset 馃挭馃尀 gm