Evening\'s blue dominates Central Park,
as Hans Christian Anderson feeds a duck.
And I, alone, Sat in a corner.
As the frozen dried golden leaves dance around my boots.
The Birds harmonize with the saxophone player far, far away.
This, joy, life and love itself.
And I wonder if I found them all in the wrong place.
I look back again.
What is the point of life if you have no one to share your tears with?