#66: Ein lied.
January 08, 2007

Sitting on the bus squeezed neatly beneath all the shoutings and laughters, I heard someone whistle.

So soft and at the same time, so intense all I ever heard was its music - delicately put in place piece by piece.

Makes you feel more than a butterfly.

More than birds flying round and round the fountain in Central Park.

It came from somewhere so far back behind where I was sitting.

And it made me smile.

Above everything else, it made me smile.

(But I never found out who he was.)

3:53 p.m.

Older / Newer



Home
Archives
Leave a note
Host