The sky pressed against the window grey with snow and your old teacher bent his head to hear you play Bach.
The landscape was rigid, exact. You could cut your fingers on its ivory edge.
Later, in the street, you lifted your face to the snow and loved the lamp post, the sky, your life.
-Joan I. Siegel-
Date:
Thu 18 Jan '07
Category:
photography
urban
Tags:
frost
hoar
street
lamps
Moods:
cold
• hoar
Title:
Street Icicles
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