| A Baltimore Love Letter |
| When my beard becomes frosted, And the painted screens of this city Lie faded against the hinge; I will Remember that here is where you were, And where magical things were like fireflies Mingling. I will call out to memories, And simplicity. Perhaps things will remain As we left them; dreaming, of course, with Haze around the edges. What Is this story about? Ice cream cones? Dances under silver stars? A loss Of innocence? Or maybe, if we�re Lucky, about us with haze around The edges. |