Monday, September 9, 2013

Tuesday, September 3, 2013

SEPTEMBER PASSES a poem



 SEPTEMBER PASSES

 
On the patio, new foliage
pushes through remnants
of Autumn leaves.
The brick path
is mottled and scarred
with wet pine needles
and acorn caps.
Cobwebs are whisked off
white wicker. The far-away
sun shines cold.
In layered clothing,
I sip herbal tea.

Chances are You Will Want to Come to New York City

In 1958 Her streets were paved in yellow brick leading to Fifth Avenue and 42 nd  Street. You might have seen a zealous couple dance-walkin...