fair weather friend

The sun flaunts its golden smile and the streets are filled with ecstasy. The clouds drift high and slow across the sky like a crowd of stark white continents across the sea. I watch the celestial procession go by - colossal immigrants, advancing steadily, then receding into oblivion like a smile or a rosy recollection. They make their way down towards the horizon, like dreamers drawn into the irresistible distance, faces inscrutable as shades of gray and silver.