Simbad, he’s

my friend. He’s not

a sailor. He’s

a traveller, someone who

decided to pack

and go for a walk.

The walk is long, it takes

flights to get

to where he wants to be.

He’s a

very lucky bastard, he has

always been one

and today

I’ll be thinking of him

imagining the thrill he must feel

when landing in some distant place

with just time

to spend.

Imagine

carrying a good pack of days

on your American-made backpack

to spend in the East.

How

amazing it must be

to go out in the world, with your

eyes open, capable of waking up

and spend time

looking at the sky

during the day; the

same sky that will be waiting for him

in summer

back home.