It always reminds me of you...
The gloomy sky, the chilly wind
The smell of burning wood
In a fire pit...
The quietness of an empty park
The falling leafs
It brings your presence
To my memory...
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The Cycle
Life is a cycle..or better yet, a series of cycles. We must learn to start, and then, to stop. Finish and close all cycles and start new o...
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Today I stop by this little park in my son old school. Long time ago, in this same place, I asked him and his classmates what did they wan... -
se me antoja que la vida es como ellas... pasajera e incierta que nos depara esa nube gris que se acerca lentamente en la distancia? traera ...
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The beautiful clown looked so sad She danced in a careless world And made them laugh... She shed a tear or two but no one cared...they ju...
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