Archive
10/25/09
Sunday in the Park
Sunday lunch, beside tiny Tilles Park Lake, I feast on crunchy French mini-toasts Spread with olive-oil-and-roasted-garlic hummus
And watch clusters of quacking mallards, Patrols of Canada geese, slowly floating, Fishermen casting their lines, minding their poles.
Suddenly, this warm noon transforms itself Into the last time I sat by a Tuileries fountain, Feeding ducks, watching kids sail their toy boats,
And I realize that everything's gotten older, By three years, maybe five...everything but us. Time and I haven't aged.
10/25/09
|
|||
|
|||
