It would be the cool of the day;
the traders would’ve been back from stalls,
farmers at their regular joint for the daily glass…
children would be ready for their tale time,
and I would have hung my favorite hat
on the bar at the door’s back.
Yes, The fiery red stained hat of furs
that draws flies in their wake.
Earlier that day, I would’ve kissed my lady—
a whisper of sweet nothing embodied with love,
combed through her grey hairs that cut in her face.
A promise to be what she gazed at upstairs.
With a free mind and a satisfied smile
will I put on…
on my way through,
for when I cross the bridge,
I love to see a brighter life ahead.