Europe, my soul searches for you the cobblestone streets that wind through villages leading to glass windows of baguettes and old women whose men in work boots on tractors of plowed fields under endless skies filled with limestone undulations of time.
Cities of young and beautiful,(cigarettes and cameras) buildings of histories and oldlike the dirt on the soles of the shoes of those who left the pastoral fields for the sunrises on rooftops.
Thoughts and Things from a Bird's View 
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