Min vän drömmaren och hans vackra ord.

Why do we bother with the rest of the day,
the swale of the afternoon,
the sudden dip into evening,

then night with his notorious perfumes,
his many-pointed stars?

This is the best—
throwing off the light covers,
feet on the cold floor,
and buzzing around the house on espresso—

maybe a splash of water on the face,
a palmful of vitamins—
but mostly buzzing around the house on espresso,

dictionary and atlas open on the rug,
the typewriter waiting for the key of the head,
a cello on the radio,

and, if necessary, the windows—
trees fifty, a hundred years old
out there,
heavy clouds on the way
and the lawn steaming like a horse
in the early morning.

Har pratat med Hampus - den strösta drömmaren och äventyraren jag känner. Min vän vandrar den långa vägen till Egypten för att finna visdom, lycka och äventyr.

Tack för de fina orden. Jag behövde dem.