The city was almost empty in the winter silence which so suddenly tore spring apart. As I ran through the sleet I noticed how wonderfully slow the snow can fall, it just keeps hanging there in the air and I must have looked either drunk or just stupid; stopping to gaze up at the sky, mouth open, hands stretched out.
The crooked shape of trees against the sky, red, a tiny stab in my face from every snowflake. White drops on my tongue.
This was worth missing the tube for.
Monday, April 09, 2007
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment