After a walk

Someone was whistling. It came to me through the screen in the window; through the muggy choking smell of fertility and spring turned summer sickening sweetness. It was upbeat. It was a diddy of some kind. It sounded like a colonial tune. It was upbeat but it sounded like it may have been a simple tune about how a man's woman had run off west, over mountains and through trails, never to return. It was lonely.

and she went down the path
and she never came back