The pathos of the moment asks something of us, yes?
Viewing entries in
Europe
The sole is stronger than I thought.
Evening breezes lift the August heat.
Penance is a team sport played with spray paint and elbow grease.
Avalanches—here?
Pine cones clustered under dark green boughs.
None of us would say we’re at our all time best.
I don’t knock anyone over as I weave and dodge, marking the concourse with my sweat.
By now everyone is well acquainted with the summer’s sweltering heat.
Maybe stranger is a concept we acquire with age.