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Late afternoon's heavy gold; the leaves transparent like honest conversation; the sun setting like an arpeggiated minor ninth. The hours linger, reminiscing like a younger body's soul; like the flower of new friendship; the earthy rusk of yesterday's plans. The great wild reality of now is vivid and too quick to capture - and rare like strangers nostalgic and sentimental for the same movie. The change is like a tidal wave. Nothing at first, then all at once. The shimmering of this morning, this afternoon and right now hardens and condenses into memory. And tomorrow, the laughter, the words, the sorrow -- are erased and echo like yesterday's dreams.
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