It's Friday Infidels. Another week goes by. A hellish week it's been, but it's now a quiet Friday here in Downtown Fort Lauderdale.
There's been many changes this past week in the country. Who knows what the future will bring.
Despite all the changes that we encounter each and every day, the beauty of nature remains constant; an absolute. An orchid bloom will always be beautiful as will the sight of an eagle soaring in the wind. On this quiet Friday morning, a song by Jimi Hendrix rings in my head that I believe accompanies my image. Enjoy and have a great weekend.
After all the jacks are in their boxes;
And the clowns have all gone to bed;
You can hear happiness staggering on down the street;
Footsteps dressed in red.
And the wind whispers Mary.
A broom is drearily sweeping;
Up the broken pieces of yesterdays life;
Somewhere a queen is weeping;
Somewhere a king has no wife.
And the wind, it cries Mary
The traffic lights, they turn, blue tomorrow;
And shine their emptiness down on my bed;
The tiny island sags down stream;
cause the life that lived is dead.
And the wind screams Mary.
Will the wind ever remember?
The names it has blown in the past?
And with this crutch, its old age, and its wisdom;
It whispers no, this will be the last.
And the wind cries Mary.