Martin McFriend

The old man looked at me, his eyes a gloomy pink.
Shadows trailed his jellied lower lip.
Many mistakes I’ve made, boy,
but something to make you think.
The road will take you far and wide, dust in your wake,
sun glazing your future with promise.
In your bright path, an angel you will meet.
Her eyes will tell you the bluest ocean’s break,
the silk of moonlight, the truth of all the world.
If you walk past her, boy, take heed,
the chance will not return.
Blinded you will be to the mysteries unfurled.