Jane Siberry. We made love last night. Wasn't good wasn't bad. Itimate strangers made me kinda sad. Now when I woke up this morning. Coffee wasn't on.
Winter time and the frozen river. Sunday afternoon. They're playing hockey on the river. Rosy. He'll have that scar on his chin forever someday his girlfriend will say hey.
Someone's mother falls to the sidewalk. On the next street someone looks up. In the cathedral a burst of laughter. In another city the pigeons fly up and scatter.