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There was a handwritten note , Pressed in the door, Of my screened in porch, Because he sailed away, Me now recalling that day, Miles from shore, He is still wearing white and Robins egg blue, In my...
Trace the skyline as dusk begins Count the stars as they creep in. A box is buried upon this hill Filled with secrets incased in steel. This is where we used to be Now I come to hold the memory.
An old favorite flashed Across the memory As time goes by; Casablanca What a strange city I find me in again Twirling to the chancy laitmotif The iridescent reflections Hanging on my hollow...