bulbs blooming across the lawn, small children in costumes running and tumbling down the hills, the intermittent pop of champagne corks, a man with a cello lows soft notes across the green
allyson and michelle giggle while brian and meghann caress each other comfortably, brian takes pictures and i paint the girls' nails. it's warm. we laugh about nothing, then something, then everything. in the evening, the park authorities blow their whistles and droves of revelers cascade into the night, dispersing on the roads that wind between the buildings. we wander to the canal and drink wine until the evening turns cool.
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