live in these last few hours of light

Sitting here, all i hear is the clip clopping of feet against the cobblestones. The blossoms are back, the smell of the food and wine festival fills the air, smokey and comforting. I can wait for fall to see the little square covered with the white petals. I always see people stop and stare, I imagine that the first snow elicits much the same sentiments. Faces light up when confronted with beauty in places they pass unnoticed most days. They are eating gelato and holding their glasses, making their way home home or some such destinations. Lazy Saturday afternoons, is it not what we should be striving for? put away the watches, think no more of work and live in these last few hours of light. Let me capture them as a painter would, slow and deliberate motions. Let me tell the tale one stroke at a time, one word after another. Let my pen glide across the page, grant me the skill to add tone and depth.