Strange dreams last night. I dreamt of snow and long car rides through dark streets while the Grateful Dead played on the radio. I woke up with St. Stephen in my head. It brought me back to a time when I was fourteen or fifteen, sitting on the roof of my uncles apartment, looking at the rooftops of Queens.

Lady finger, dipped in moonlight, writing 'What for?' across the morning sky. Sunlight splatters, dawn with answer, darkness shrugs and bids the day goodbye.

Speeding arrow, sharp and narrow, What a lot of fleeting matters you have spurned. Several seasons with their treasons, Wrap the babe in scarlet colors, call it your own.

- St. Stephen