Wednesday, 27 July 2011

this summer of crushed bones.
marvelling at the reluctance
of dry eyes to see
the shades in-between the edges.

so many shades,
very few of which are grey.

and such a strong nostalgia.
if that is the word.
for woods in autumn.
of laced windows dissolved
in clear white winter light.

mostly of the kind of harmony
found in the balance of contradictions.

4 comments:

Timo said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Anonymous said...

I really love your blog.

Your capability to express the feelings of your heart amazes me daily.

Would you think it impertinent of me to ask how you learned to write like this?

Where do you draw your inspiration from?

Thank you.

For every, beautiful word.
x

theunicornman said...

i miss you i hate you i love you
my facebook & your blog dont connect us like i hope you are in love, i read your poems i am a voyeur now a spy i have written a hundred poems to you the ideal i play hide * seek best it is my profession. i have aimed my shipwrecks & messaged bottles to memento. i say no to everything & everyone, be well Ca

regina said...

it has been such a long time since reading you. i apologize for that.
you are beauteous still.
i want to follow you in my new blog.
please write soon again.
x