afternoon stroll

afternoon stroll I walked into a landscape painting made of chlorophyll  in eleven variations, and there were no adolescent  girls around suffering from sclerosis, but did see a pale face in a car driving by, cattle string incomprehensively at the painting the heaven was pale blue with hasty brush strokes  of fondly white painted looking like the top crest of waves gone astray, petrified by loneliness Rocks too, were green as decaying teeth and sheep shorn looking ridicules and ashen among verdant olive trees  As the sun was about to hibernate and night cast shadows on the silent stage, colors evaporated  I thought of Saddam Hussein, already forgotten had a daughter who loved him, saw him as tragic a figure fighting the occupiers This teaches us one needs not to be saint to be loved