Tuesday, April 27, 2010

Blackbird, orange socks and telling.

1. Blackbird not willing to leave his place on the fence as I pass. I look him right in the yellow-rimmed eye.

2. Small boy runs down a quiet street. Luminous orange socks.

3. No more secrets.

Arrival, left over from Sunday and lamp light.

1. Some new baby news lifts the morning. 2. For lunch there is ramen with leftover leeks and squash, shreds of pork and shards of deep orang...