Two nights after Christmas. We are somnolent and turkey-stuffed. The booming draws us to the windows, the flashing lights keep us there. Fireworks! With each explosion, the snow covering Lac Brome lights up. The colours are something out of Breughel, bonfires beyond the trees. The frozen world glitters in the sudden light.
Federico at Home
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Because he was a gardenerSprawling with his love deep in the night Where he
raised the autumn hillsOf Andalusia, scented with duende And pruned the old
bro...
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