Day 1682, sentimental. Day's pictures, Poetry I am standing here looking over a meadow waiting for the summer harvest in autumn ~ It might be sentimental or just patient
Day 1681, landscape. Day's pictures, Poetry Our cultured landscape ~ with fields square like the mind of a farmer and trees planted by the rhythm of the ranger ~ and the road we take follows the creek that brings water down over rounded stones laying in the silt of forefathers
Day 1680, smooth. Day's pictures, Poetry It froze after the first rain and leaves fell ~ the next morning sun broke the ice and we drifted apart ~ the distance warmed and the rough edges melted ~ soon this all is one again
Day 1679, far apart. Day's pictures, Poetry The world speeds by seen through the left window of my car ~ at a glance I see a handful of black sheep grazing far apart ~ where I come from the sheep mostly stick together ~ I guess these black sheep don’t
Day 1678, distorted. Day's pictures, Poetry I like to look at the reflection of a blue sky in one of the large structures blocking my horizon ~ the reflection adds a much needed distortion of what I wish to see
Day 1677, from nowhere. Day's pictures, Poetry I feel an urge to eat it comes from nowhere I didn’t decide it ~ it’s just like these words I write here
Day 1676, stand. Day's pictures, Poetry If you look ~ at what you perceive ~ from the right angle and height ~ it will align ~ but be sure to stand still
Day 1675, closer. Day's pictures, Poetry I see clouds floating above the roof I lie under ~ they seem so close and far away ~ I ask myself staring upwards ~ do I want to be closer to those clouds or the roof
Day 1674, playing. Day's pictures, Poetry The urge to pull on the first words dangling in your mind ~ when asked for an opinion ~ curious for what will happen you give in and the rest arrives ~ you pulled like the cat with seven lives
Day 1673, her. Day's pictures, Poetry She was standing there forever still in silence ~ I could see her posture knew where to go ~ up the stairs to get her…
Day 1672, ice. Day's pictures, Poetry The flowersturned white into icenow I seethat the clockmoved the timeahead and awayfrom…
Day 1671, against. Day's pictures, Poetry Our energy seemingly comes from the same source ~ the wall we stand against ~ ignoring the fusillades we look the other way ~ and sometimes we meet each other
Day 1670, sideways. Day's pictures, Poetry I like to climb higher but all the lines spoken come towards me ~ I need lines spoken besides me towards a step and the next ~ please talk besides me
Day 1669, not. Day's pictures, Poetry Sometimes you see what it is not ~ the emptiness filled by a willing mind
Day 1668, waking up. Day's pictures, Poetry Like in a dream that I drive out of ~ I wake up when I come home ~ in between these walls my life is real ~ the world beyond is where I fall Continue reading →
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