It was her annual trip...
...when in an elevator she had traveled in over half her life, she pointed to the worn patch of wood and said, "This is still here."
After dinner the missing of mothers drifted into words.
I looked up.
What was still here was how certain nights still felt like Florence if she were a New York evening.
So we wandered and looked at what was still here.
Tompkins Square fledglings go exploring - When I visited Tompkins Square on Sunday afternoon, both red-tail fledglings were hanging out in trees on the south side of the park. After a while, Ten c...
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