Remember the mornings I kissed you goodnight . . .
My friend J. B. White composed this song for a script I wrote in the early 1980s, about Soho, when that part of Manhattan was just coming into its own as a Bohemian enclave, and where I had so many magical adventures. Thirty years later, none of that Soho remains — it's a Yuppie shopping mall today — though the ghosts, the faces in the windows, are still there, I suppose, my own among them.
The places you
love that you can never return to are also places you can never
leave. They become part of your own small portion of eternity.
[Song © J. B. White]