A grey horizon and river

Under a dark bridge
but the light of life sparkles
In two places, like magic

No time for my camera
As the bus pulls away

At the cafe

The words of a monk
The sound of a piano, and a soft, melodious and melancholy voice
Memories of my father, back home
And of my love, of course

A confluence making a mallet
To ring a bell inside me
Sending a tone to my mind, my heart
Accusing and calling to my feet