lakes like oil spills,
statues that wink behind you,
and the soft flutter of sleepless birds…
What’s there not to like about a midnight park?
And then you have the occasional oddball…
Such as the Frenchwoman who was talking to herself and gesticulating fiercely on lone alleys,
and then turned away whenever she came across me.
But she was too well dressed to be a madwoman, and
the blue blouse draped over her shoulders was quite chic.
So, when I espied her take out of her pocket a bunch of ruffled
papers, my doubts were confirmed:
5 thoughts on “Midnight Park”
Reblogged this on Frederick Anderson and commented:
Why do I love this so much? The tight economical way Vincent conjures up his imagery in my mind, perhaps, or his amazingly atmospheric photography? Please give his site a visit – it is well worth your attention.
Reblogged on Frederickanderson – I hope I haven’t offended!
By no means!