Untitled #412

It was always a golden city, even before I learned exactly what Black and Gold meant and why the sports fans were as crazed as in Boston. It was a golden city because each time I would be bleary eyed and exhausted, the sunlight would illuminate the staggered and defiant skyline for a second sunrise,…

Commute

There's a navy velvet sky this morning, and the swish of traffic is drowned out by busts of cheery birdsong. It's not dawn, but it's coming, and the birds know what's up. I might have dressed and prepared tea, quietly - some still sleep at this hour - but it felt far from the empty…