Yellow Sky

The old factory had long since been picked clean... all that remained were smoke stacks and towers. Sometime ago it became art. This is what is born from ruins. I remember my first dance with the first girl to break my heart.. Our foreheads touching...one last gesture of innocence... In an antique store in Louisville, Kentucky, I found a picture of a surveyor on the banks of the Ohio... the black and white picture had yellowed from the decades-- but he was focused, locked in on some by gone present.