Caressing-Community

Icy

Das Quietschen einer Schaukel. Eisig, und doch breitet sich das Schmeicheln des Windes aus. The creaking of a swing. Icy, and yet the soft caressing of the wind unfolds.

Red's glàring on blue, tint of yellow forming the fading light. Blue caressing the form so dominant and true. Yes, the ridge was changing, the forest line tinted grey, though bright with a given haze. This is the ending and renewal. A day has passed, and a new beginning begins. (Street Cafe series,

Old

A thunderous storm, sudden flashes that bring fright Huddled together we sought warmth in the night But with every lash, every scream, every death The fear grew ever stronger not even darring a breath It made no noise, not a snarl, not a howl. The only thing telling was a stench, so rotten and... mehr lesen