Day 1667, noone. Day's pictures, Poetry The light and lingering rain gives my mood a muted tone of afternoon and autumn ~ while I wander in this light I lookup to an old window ~ and a thought appreciating the mood asks me: ~ does the window fulfill its role of bringing in light in an abandoned house
Day 1666, fall. Day's pictures, Poetry For a few days in nature a colorful festival celebrates the end of growth and feast ~ and we admirers in awe we forget to celebrate our own
Day 1665, sideways. Day's pictures, pictures Like our nose we don’t see the truth when we approach it to close ~ we can still see a part of it when we close the right eye ~ when stepping back is not an option
Day 1664, straight line. Day's pictures, Poetry A lot of things that are man-made have perfect straight lines going up and sideways ~ even when we think or speak ~ the shortest route is a straight line and when we look for answers we often don’t wander around
Day 1663, spilled. Day's pictures, Poetry From the clothespins that are left I can see where you had your thought hanging to dry ~ I hope the blood stains came out
Day 1662, who. Day's pictures, Poetry On my left I see you on my right I see you ~ you are the symmetry in my life and never will the two of you meet
Day 1661, line. Day's pictures, Poetry This line that I am holding is choking me ~ and when the wind tides and waves play their game ~ I realize that this will prolongs this lines grip on me
Day 1660, a normal life. Day's pictures, Poetry A window with a plant ~ a few hours of sunlight on most day’s ~ once a week some water ~ a loving gaze twice a month ~ till I near ~ the end
Day 1659, veil. Day's pictures, Poetry I like the pictures you paint for me ~ but I am curious about the one you partially hide ~ you know ~ a hint of a veil makes you wonder of what it is or not
Day 1658, standing still. Day's pictures, Poetry I open the drawer with one hand holding a picture in the other of you standing in a doorway ~ I can not see if you are leaving or coming in ~ I only remember that we were there
Day 1657, a clear barrier. Day's pictures, Poetry I sometimes focus on what’s between meand you~I see small scratches dirtstill thereafter that stormsome rain droplets ~and on the inside smudges from my fingertips from when I triedto reach out ~I realize that I need to clean my windows
Day 1656, hiding behind. Day's pictures, Poetry When I look into the world ~ I know that my mind is working hard ~ filling in every detail hiding behind my blind spot ~ I wonder if you still hide there
Day 1655, on rails. Day's pictures, Poetry It all looks to me like I am sitting in a train ~ why then do I have this steering wheel in my hands
Day 1654, gold. Day's pictures, Poetry The sky turned gold tonight ~ when I looked outside ~ to wonder
Day 1653, grey pillars. Day's pictures, Poetry There is this crossing that I go back to whenever I am hungry ~ I will sit in the grass besides these grey pillars and look to the other side where I have been just came from and want to go to ~ somewhere in the middle of this passage I can look far for a moment at the horizon and I feel complete ~ but I like to sit here still in the grass to besides these grey pillars
Day 1652, a deep sea. Day's pictures, Poetry I worked hard on this vessel ~ it is still floating adrift with the current ~ towards the sunset away from its rise ~ a deeper sea is what I feel