March 18th 2016

·
wrens
····hopping after me—my fresh baked loaf
········of rye
·
Tonight I spend the night in Burlington, Vermont. A cold spell has blown across Lake Champlain and the streets feel like winter again. Church Street sparkles with lights, taverns and cafés. I love Burlington and love the cold winds tumbling across the lake. Reminds me of my childhood city, Berlin, Germany. Being in the city always reminds me of the wrens in Berlin’s courtyards. Their little chirps echoed and would wake me in the mornings. They never need much to keep them busy, even so little as a few seeds falling from my loaf of rye. ~ Written in Burlington, Vermont.
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133 March 18th 2016 | bottlecap

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