Friday, November 10, 2006
shades of blue
I could hardly keep my eyes open, but the snow wouldn't let them close. while a young woman with a bag made on an anvil watched Cinderella on her lap, a man answered a mobile with a ringtone he thought defined his personality, the snow kept on snowing, and the day showed itself to me.
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- angela
- Poetry is like having an imaginary friend, who still forgets your birthday.
2 comments:
The light looks mazingly beautiful on this picture
Wow this is so lovely Angel - you and the snow - it's a love affair
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