The smell of honeysuckle

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Last night, I walked down Nassau Street with my friend Nikola and I smelled the sweet night time scent of honeysuckle. When I lived on Nassau I would stop. Take a deep breath. And quietly think how lovely it was to be here and now. I stood across from my old home and said hello. The magnolia tree next door is still there, the chestnut tree since looms over the yard. The crazy woman across the street still grows bitter melon and the Neighbourhood Watch sign has been appropriated by Picard, Riker and Data. 

I’m preparing for the next adventure and the market greeted me as it always does, with joy and wonder. Thanks Kensington.

And now a little ragamuffin poem I rustled up and wrote for you:

I love love
I love its tender notes
Its sighs
Its caresses. We would all like more of it.
More of its romance and wonder
More of its assuring glances
Bold brush strokes
Bold love
Heartfelt and heartbeats
I love love

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