fgalante.blogspot.com
Sounds Like LifeSaturday, November 28, 2015. The moving calligraphy of snow. Snatched by the wind and swept in little scrawls. Snakes across the black asphalt plaza. For now, it is a gift of space,. Empty of apple crates,. With bad teeth, selling books. No smell of pickpockets in the market. No spilled hot cider or frozen fish. Crowds of steamy-breathed shoppers,. Bundled up, squeezed between pavilions. Are now only shadowed thoughts, only. Sliding astral shifts trailing passing cars. White babies in carriages are gone.
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