I get up from the sitting on the curb on the corner of Jones St. and Kilt Ave. I wave goodbye to all the nice fellows who have been sitting next me helping me pass the the time. I walk away with my head held high and a spring in my step. But suddenly I stop and turn. Those good fellows wave again and I regard them with a long stare. I turn about and continue on my way. I have my kilt pin, I have my sporran, I even have my beautiful 5 yard knife pleated 16 oz. kilt. But some how, some way...I just know I'm destined to return to sit on the curb at the corner of Jones St. and Kilt. Ave.
Thus the thread ends.....for now
-See it there, a white plume
Over the battle - A diamond in the ash
Of the ultimate combustion-My panache
Edmond Rostand
Bookmarks