I imagined years apart
how Paul would change
without my influence.
Technicolor hair
tattoos, piercings
and a muscle car.
A fire burns in him
with flames
that lick his face regularly.
And somehow
no drugs or booze
or anything synthetic.
We would meet again
surround by the Pacific.
An island like Tahiti.
Serendipity would have
brought us back together
where lightning struck the beach
and turned to glass
what was granules
an instant before.
Our first discussion in years
would be about
the horizon line on the ocean
dipping back into art school
two point perspective
and the Italian Renaissance painters.
But the conversation
would quickly shift to Gauguin
their common lifestyle
and the joys of cultural immersion
paint, the love of native women
and new foods.
copyright © 2021 Kenneth P. Gurney
Umflop 