Driving my son to work as the city awakens. Awakening.
Simple blessings. Unconditional love. Smiling. Really smiling …
Man to man we share the peace the daybreak offers. Heating up …
His face, strong and handsome. Stunningly strong. My son. Blood.
His hand, our hands, direct vital lines. Celtic veins and ancient tribes.
A cathedral’s sparkling pier forms … there … on top of the hill.
Another father waits on the sidewalk, his tiny daughter grips tight.
Sharing a banana. Sweet, strong, supple, unbending love. Fatherhood.
She looks up at his lived in face and grins. Grins wide. So wonderfully wide.
We’ve been here before, my son and me—he winks at me. Sharing. Nodding.
Macquarie Street. Old jail. Hospital. Parliament. Convict ghosts. Tendrils.
Coffee? No, this is stimulation enough. Simple, real, raw, and achingly good.
There’s a woman on my mind. Car trip away. Sensual, new, and pulsing pure.
So beautiful, so kind. A woman, not an image. Real.
Father-true, mother-made. Brother, sister—to prove her love. I want her touch.
He walks away, and my heart starts to call. No … let him go. Your son, but his life.
Feel the freedom, joy, and separation of love. There’s a woman on his mind.
Taste your desire, my gorgeous boy. Her blood. Her tears. Hold her tightly. Close.
Woman on my mind. A heartbeat away. Her hair falls just so. My finger folds it back.
The door opens, closes, and he is gone.
His shadow leaves my sight. So handsome. Simple moment, simple blessing.
A short note plays on the radio, fruit vendor caress my beating heart. Bananas.
Bananas, bending, bonding, glowing yellow, shining bright.
There’s women on our minds.