MrWootton

I saw you out walking on the street today, past the bank and market where you stopped to buy pears and honey and a loaf of olive bread. Your dress was a yellow print - daffodils and you wore a scarf that nestled on your shoulder, a soft pleiades. Morning steamed off the street - nebulae of sounds - the world waking up as you laughed, the breeze cupping your chin in an embrace of thieves. People turned and smiled at the sound of you living at the sound of everything slung across your shoulder like hope.