The Woman Across The Cortile
Her name is unknown to me. But I enjoy the sight of her in the window and the shadow dance as she crosses the room. It’s not affection, but comfort and association, the sharing of town, time and pain.
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Her name is unknown to me. But I enjoy the sight of her in the window and the shadow dance as she crosses the room. It’s not affection, but comfort and association, the sharing of town, time and pain.
On a plane, in the row ahead of me, a man was speaking to another two or three ahead of him. I picked up words that pulled me back 50 years.
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