First to rise, just after dawn, I wander through rooms in a part of town most people wouldn't volunteer to live in. Bitter cold again - the coming new year is a big question mark - not entirely lamentable, it just is.
Spire's of dust float across the length of the room, suspended in morning light streaming through frost on the windows - they rise, lifted on unseen currents, and then, simply disappear.
rinsing out
yesterday's cup --
solstice
` ;;;;;;
.jpg)
No comments:
Post a Comment