Oh Romantics
My neighbour waves with staggered smile his lips like straight lines on paper puzzled at me for taking a photo of the tree, he has been seeing all his life White roofs glittering my daughter is in awe her first snowy morning suddenly everything has a white sweater on New for her, dead for me Does the wine really tastes better with age? Or is it our worries on Love that have grown ? To know the blob of nothingness that ends and still to start with vibe of a romantic Dust floats, twists, swishes, drowns till it vanishes