walking around

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summer song

Summer Song (William Carlos Williams 1883-1963)

Wanderer moon
smiling a
faintly ironical smile
at this
brilliant, dew-moistened
summer morning,—
a detached
sleepily indifferent
smile, a
wanderer’s smile,—
if I should
buy a shirt
your color and
put on a necktie
where would they carry me?

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It is usually said that age is not to be perceived only as a number but a gathering of experiences, the latest provide life with new colors and sounds, some of which can make one’s heart grow or shrink. To my surprise, life has proved its capacity for changing everything from time to time. What was meant to be just a casual “meet and great” turned into a next day breakfast,  which then turned into a concert, the Mediterranean Sea, a trip to Prag, a bike ride to Monaco and getting lost in someone else’s mental labyrinth.

Distance won’t be a defining factor soon, and now there’s just the joy of taking up challenges, going through them and deciphering myself through the eyes of someone who I crossed and intertwined paths with.

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