no precise no past pearl pearl goat

We pointed to the art on the umbrella. I sang in delight, "Starry starry night!"

"You always have a song for everything. Or a poem."

I smiled at her, at the surprise of someone noticing. "But poems are a sort of song."

She snapped her finger. "This is true."

At dinner, magical moment, I lay my head on her shoulder and wrapped my arms around her. She played the violin on my arm. "Is that Jupiter, bringer of jollity?" I asked. "No, no..." and she repeated the movement, but never did tell me what she was playing.

2002-12-11, Jupiter Jollity

before / after

archives / website / hello book / diaryland