The older man

There is wisdom in the wind as I float my hand through it

Through the tree that is too heavy for the balcony and the public pool we dove in

The eyes of the white curly haired man that waves goodbye that I felt smart talking to

Who I would see again in the house opposite

The prince's palace guarded by armed soldiers

 

The air is gentle and warm as I think about the future

That feels softer now that I have

the knowledge of the older man

Who knows how to mend life to his hands.

 

Mosquitoes and sablé biscuits