Tonight is one of those beautiful New York City nights. The air is cold and clean, the sky is dark, almost clear. A stray cloud hangs low, bright, white and blue, peaking through a row of streetlights. It’s the kind of night to walk with a lover and laugh while trying to keep each other warm. It’s the kind of night that chills your skin and grabs your heart. It’s a night to stop at an Italian café on Bleeker Street, order coffee, share desert and talk for hours, until the old man starts mopping the floor and stacking the chairs.
A city night like this is what poetry is born from, it’s music, it’s what makes life worth all of it and inspires us to stay up until dawn. ~Katie
1 comment:
yup, this is the kind of writing you do that makes me wish i lived up there.
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