There’s a certain type of light that makes its way though brick houses. The history of it all tells clock hands which way to move, and how fast. What have I repeated unknowingly? Sidewalk chalk remnants for blocks. The neighborhood buzzing got me second-guessing myself. Sometimes the roofs hang too low to breathe right, and then I’m gone. June 9, 2017UncategorizedSea Mason Leave a comment
ALL SEASONS HALO 