Plungers and stock pots collide in impromptu celebration; Brussels sprout stalks bounce in mid errand jubilation. Makeshift expressions of fervent wishes appeased, As hope, quarantined, is at last released. In music, movement, motorcars, and masks; In hoots, honks, howls, and the occasional barks; In strangers hip hopping, and champagne corks popping; And in the sunny disposition of clear blue skies, The victorious City of Brotherly Love basks.
Photo credit: AP Photo/Altaf Qadri Brick kiln chimneys stuck, into the bosom of the country soil; Like enormous incense sticks, smoking in veneration, Rising from a clump of Ganges clay. Such is the soil this earth is made of; Such are the bricks our walls are made of. ---One from the archives (circa 2006-07) Photo credit: Match Sùmàyà on Unsplash
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