.
It comes at night, the repetitive pulse through the city.
Waves after a catamaran moves
below the seemingly placid surface.
A large engine has been started.
The spark of life is weakening. The light bulbs flickers.
Everything seams just a little different.
The feeling of a great uncertainty crossing our block.
The winter has shed its sails. Snow and a magical silence
is rocking out there, waiting.
.
Feb 3, 2015
Feb 3, 2015 at 6:57 AM UTC
.
It comes at night, the repetitive pulse through the city.
Waves after a catamaran moves
below the seemingly placid surface.
A large engine has been started.
The spark of life is weakening. The light bulbs flickers.
Everything seams just a little different.
The feeling of a great uncertainty crossing our block.
The winter has shed its sails. Snow and a magical silence
is rocking out there, waiting.
.
