London                                                  for Meg   My love, London rumbles around and life eddies us here, where time sports antique clothes gone a bit dodgy — this moment you chose has its English accent. My good wife, I’ve anticipated too, prepared a few simple things for you: one New York sky hung turquoise from a slender silver chain; one warm, rainy night when I lay beside you open-eyed to the cityscape of love set in the glass of our bedroom window. Celebrate! And save these adornments so one day you may remember. But enough ragged philosophy, enough of jewels, enough poetry. Just kiss me, you fool.     © Michael Fleming London June 2004