The streets of Tardeo.

Walking down the first steps ,after a short evening's drink,
Through the now familiar maze,old,young and wound,
feeling the pavement,the road,and the wind,
the chilhood-day notions of a city,realise in a land,a dream,in a hundred phrases abound.

I see the footsteps of a million men,
staggering ,and firm,
for their eyes might had been fixed,
on lights,and skies and freedom .

The distant rattling of carriage wheels,
in their arrogant pursuit to wave,perhaps a new conquest , a symphony ,
in a tempo,high and brave,
of colours and glitter ,and thrills.

This is maybe,the land,
when lost men recover,
their futile battles with a band,
for they had soared,
high over the life and ways of their clan.