and he said . . .

when it's warm like this. in winter. in january.

it makes you feel like you're in some other spring.

some spring in the past.

or some spring in the future.

maybe. maybe not.

i was starting another morning in the south bronx. heading to see some kids. and the parents who are trying to love them better.

dodging dog shit.

and i walked by two young black men. sprawled against their car. being patted down by a slew of NYPD.

and i thought . . .

i'll miss this when i'm gone.