I brought my sketchbook with me
on the daily rooftop adventure.
I didn't have the King Mitus touch,
so I gave it a break.
I let the wind play
As it fingered through the pages.
It wasn't something I'd normally allow,
But it was exciting.
I found it amusing:
The way the current took control.
The spontaneity of it all was thrilling.
But then,
it found my weakness,
and in a blink of an eye
the
wind
carried
away
an
unattached
sketch.
..Something that was once so much
a part of me
was gone in an instant..
...
Would that happen too if I told him?
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