About the exquisite bastard

one of the two who see things as they are and chose to meet the days and nights like they will last forever.

I was thinking about the women

I was thinkig about you “The Dick” and was concerned that you might miss the woman more then I. I of course already miss the woman. I have been missing the woman a long time now, but missing them has allowed me to see them all so much differently then before. Before of course being when I was younger and woman actully paid attention to me.
When the woman stoped paying attention to me, I started paying attention to them. I dont mean just the pretty young talanted, educated, alluring women that swirl around you like the river around Algiers Point at high water, I mean all the woman.
They are all of them so alluring, mothers old and young, worried about their children and if they are doing the right thing. It is sad they will not relize “the best they could” was the right thing, untill they are my age.
All the young girls looking out and trying to find their way, looking for that great adventure, realizing too late that they are the great adventure and they need not look for anything, Anything will find them.
Its a great end of things, to be older and above the termoil of passion and love, To be able to see it all so clearly, to see that all the woman are great looking.
Why is it I could not see so clearly when I could still touch them. Im ok with just seeing clearly.
I have to go, I see clearly a pretty woman, she may pass close and I dont want to miss anything.

Last time I saw him

We were at the Saint Charles Cafe in New orleans, it was 0200hr in the morning we were in for weather the crew van droped us off, we had 4 days before, heavy seas subsided.
Corn beef hash crisp, eggs, toast, beer and coffee strong enough to kill. He was going to go on to Key West I was headed North, I knew this girl in columbia owned a coffee house and she had a knock dead georgous mother, A old lady sitting at the bar paid our ticked and David whent up to thank her,
“Hungery men is my Passian” said she
“Who are we to denie a woman her passion” replied david.
I last saw him walk thru the fog to his truck, covered in carharts, heavy boots, he seemed older, I gess we both were.
He went down with all hands in the Tasman Sea a few months latter and I went to South America,
I think we are all the same some how. Men, I think you and I have the unfortunate good fortune to see so much farther then most. That is really the unfortunate of it, that we see so much farther, The good fortune is we can change the path.
I like that, changing the path, I been doing some of that
See far one man dying, take the hard path.

inspirational use of time

Standing in an open field within a secluded farm I was impressed you would chose the antiquated tools of so humble a profession to express yourself. Fitting, the towering arrangement resembled less the structural art of the craftsman iron worker but more A reminder that rock stands tall beyond the farmers reach unless by choice with forged implements left behind he would face the climb with nothing but the bare ness of personal strength and passion, to arrive exhausted and spent having left no effort behind
You inspire me, young friend. you “Dick” you. to creat a statement of my own. to mount it in and open field.
I think which ever one, whom last the longest, should build a fire at the others statement and drinking wine scream into the dark sky so that our end of things becomes a journey chased into the darkness by the fire and voices of those left behind.