Mes amis silencieux

"Serene, I fold my hands and wait..."

Thus starts the profound verse written by J. Burroughs. One of my favorites as you can tell from the title of this blog. The ones i turn to for hope, solace and wisdom. At broken roads.

My silent friends.

Yesterday i visited a dainty city at a mountainside. It was my maiden visit. I had forgotten that mr. jones and tonu were once gonna take their respective trains there - la ville à près de mer entre leurs deux villes. But they got too busy trying to protect each other. From one another.

Pity.

Then it just may be that they are the wise ones. A touched love is but an oasis turned mirage. N'est-ce pas?

O, tell me not...!

Did i get a glimpse of those two as i drove along the long winding road past the ocean? Through the dusky mist of a cold afternoon did i see mr. jones and his tonu walking hand in hand, barefoot ...on the virgin sand... of a shore untouched...her long hair flying in the salty wind, his tall frame at a slight bent to merge with the slight frame of hers...

I did not know if anyone could see them. But i think i did.

Et peut-être mes amis silencieux.