UNFORESEEN IMAGES Rochelle, can you remember when we used to go to Grandma's house? The birds surrounding the steps waiting for pieces    of bread. The shallow fall breeze moved leaves across the    lawn. I felt like an escaped convict. A flock of pigeons surrounded us. I remember birds from a place somewhere in the past. They remind me of how it used to be. A cool breeze froze the moment as the birds silently ate. From the flock one suddenly snatched a piece of    bread. It's gray and white wings releasing a vibrant whistle as he flew away.
Byron Anderson
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