Saturday, February 02, 2002
Friday, February 1, 2002
"Next year we'll sit on the balcony
And count the migrating birds.
Children on vacation will play catch
Between the house and the fields.
You'll see just how good it will be next year.
"Red grapes will ripen by the evening
To be served chilled at the table.
And subdued winds will blow over the road
Carrying old newspapers and a cloud.
Oh you'll see just how good it will be next year."