before we disappear
under the weight of the tide we will
have been a wounded season
a memory, a story told and forgotten
before we disappear
under the weight of the tide we will
have been a wounded season
a memory, a story told and forgotten
photo : coastline, Pohara
there was that shadow
following me in the light
I just did not know
By chance
I happened to be there at the moment
when the mountain had just sheltered itself under wadded clouds
and the sky had separated itself from the sea,
although in the same shade of blue
photo : Pohara
If I were a tree
I’d be alone and cling to the rock
I would follow the wind
in a zany dance
I would delight in infinite soliloquies
then at nightfall
my leaves would rustle
inn the crash of the tide
photo : formations calcaires, Pohara/limestone, Pohara