Tuesday, September 11, 2012

The Sign Of Things To Come

That brief moment on the way home tonight, the air changed.  Crisp, not like an air conditioner, but like a different desire. 

On the first night like this, I miss the passion Florence walked with, a sweater and scarf readied for new times.


Related Posts:

Autumn In New York

The Lights Of Autumn

Another Walk To Hope: Part II

Sunday Memories: When A Picture Is Like A Song

Sunday Memories: "Not Coney. Coney Island."

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