| Abstrakt: |
I do believe in beginnings and endings, and yet I can never accept November as the last ones are eaten or buried and the world keeps churning cruelty and beauty in equal measure, and we keep hoping for more of the latter, even the smallest seed. - I As for man, his days are as grass i Psalm 103:15 PHOTO (COLOR) I have fallen for the ones spilling forth in fountains of stems and flowered panicles, June's green now October's copper and I'm lying here with them at eye-level - looking through - bronze to sky blue - and close-up, the only way to see everything, quivering and falling as the chickadees in black caps come to snack and keep good company. [Extracted from the article] |
