The night is cast by eyelids. The snow sweeps gentle shadows across cobblestone: The drawing of breath, The tap of the toe, the snap of the bookbag striking my back; siren calls echo through frozen shutters and roof tops made of ice. The whoosh of a bike, the tap of the toe, the snap of the book bag striking. The drawing of breath, the drawing of breath, the drawing of breath, the drawing of breath, the drawing of breath, and then: -- -e. _______________________________________________ Five7Five mailing list [EMAIL PROTECTED] http://www.pairlist.net/mailman/listinfo/five7five
