Blue Sun

One of those mornings where the blue of the winter sky is so intense it actually carries the warmth of the wide sun on its blueness; the best way to feel the grace of a morning’s blue warmth is on my shoulders and the back of my neck. I have to avert my eyes the way one averts his eyes in the presence of God.

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Why write

On Wilshire Blvd., near Centinela, either in Santa Monica or Los Angeles. The picture says it all; sometimes words are not your friends. Block’d, indeed.

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