New York Stories

New York Stories

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Copy of The Park is Cold and Windy

My dog lifts her legs precisely. She could lead a marching band but it is just us two under crescent moon that peek-a-boos inside leafless trees. She chases shifting shadows and her tail brushes tracks. I laugh as she barks and leaps at vapors just puffed out. Soft drifts turn to crust and ground crackles…

The Park is Cold and Windy

My dog lifts her legs precisely. She could lead a marching band but it is just us two under crescent moon that peek-a-boos inside leafless trees. She chases shifting shadows and her tail brushes tracks. I laugh as she barks and leaps at vapors just puffed out. Soft drifts turn to crust and ground crackles…

Not All Flowers are the Same

This image can be found on page 23 in the book New York Stories with the poem The Park is Cold and Windy.