Sunday, February 27, 2005
Over the Bridge
Rush hour walled in the concrete Metropolitan.
Flat bread and fruit bowl in the back seat.
We inched our way toward dinner.
The city-glow pushed us across the river.
Night fell over the bridge.
.
Flat bread and fruit bowl in the back seat.
We inched our way toward dinner.
The city-glow pushed us across the river.
Night fell over the bridge.
.
