Skyline of my Father’s youth toured dreams of Christmas Stories of the open road. When mobile tracks of winding two lane beckoned the weekender to escape the furnaces of steel by the lake.
Skyline in the hollow’s and balds of my Mother’s youth destined to replace the shack out back, the long haul up the hill blackened with coal dust in poor old Kentucky.
Skyline in L.A. backyard love affair between a rocker handyman and a movie star handmistress is no more than what we all want? Love and a bed on the run. Coffee in the morning and stars overhead at night in a room of our own.
Skyline is the roof over head in Palestine, Skyline is the roof over head in India.