WHAT'S IN A PHOTO, WHEN DO DREAMS BECOME MEMORIES....
Time Distant On a wintry afternoon, in a used book store, I did peruse, Leafing through this dusty tome and that, Seeking I know now what, but searching nonetheless; In a work on French literature, a find I did find, It was a picture, black and white, ancient was, A woman with book looking at me in... Sign in to see full entry.