Tuesday, June 15, 2010
Writing Spaces
That notebook in all likelihood is mine . . . the writer out of sight off in the lefthand window, an espresso just finished, the curl of lemon-peel quietly fragrant and evocative on the saucer, the day of wandering in Venetian byways yet ahead.
image: Florians Cafe, Venice, Jeanne Boleyn
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Writing Spaces
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