They built the walls with the eyes of the dead. In his augusts. In their barely. The horizon awaited. That drive away the characters. Go up and down the horizon. In all the months of the eye. From a sitting of the look. When it went up, it was promise. In a warm air. A wave was coming. The folds of the trip. Daring end of last summer. We were in the delay of his journey. In his concentrate to roam. In your thoughtful time of leaving. In his visual exit time. In the colors of its light. They pushed the colors of space. To the blue of the clouds. In the distraction of the clouds. And the arrival of the sea. of the good sea Good shepherd of the sailors. Of their boats-shepherds-anchors. Sea: divine Good Shepherd. Of their wayward travellers.