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.
