Tuesday, May 15, 2012

Cobble Hill roses

The roses have opened, everywhere. The ones below are  right across the street, in the strange, empty garden on the corner of Henry and Congress, where nobody ever sits, plays or does anything. It is bereft of any kind of attention or enjoyment, an enigma in this city where outdoor space is rare, a luxury. But along the wrought iron fence are roses. Lots of them.

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