pohutawaka branches sway over my car, red needles forming a soft carpet all around and sticking incessantly. spring has left, and the summer is winding to its autumnal ending. there's chill in the air in the early morning, trees drooping. the new life of spring eases out with the flush of dullness in… Continue reading branch + spring + new life
there is a stack of books, heaped so high as to be a menace. they reach to just below my hip, unless i'm forearmed with thick-soled shoes. they contain poems, some more romantic than their companions. others cling to the soul, magically bound to the mind, staying on. i could lecture you on… Continue reading lecture + romantic + poetry
i don't believe you. you're most difficult to read at the best of times. your words are raw and unpracticed. this is not what my heart needs right now. my mind is quick, draws conclusions you need not spell out. i know too much.
icicles hang from the branches, arching them down, stooped and slowly aged. the trees stand close, tall and hiding a multitude of secrets in earth. a final tree is selected, photographed and left to stand alone.
the sensation is triggered by light. moonlight, sunlight, candlelight. it doesn't matter which, really. all that's needed is direct contact and the transformation begins.
I've come to the conclusion that Thursday is the day I like least. Monday is a start to the week, so is Tuesday. Wednesday is a median between the days, and Friday is the slope to the weekend - which is, you know, the weekend. If you are me, the weekend is two days free… Continue reading Stellar and Lunar: Roundup 15
the scent of wine spilled permeates the air lightly - a thin musty tone. ----- compelled to carve, firm grasp on hammer and chisel lets the bust take shape. ----- to immortalize: wine rests in oak for years by an undying face.