Tuesday, 19 July 2011

stone nineteen

The dusk sky, shaded in greys, sports a ribbon of birds.  Where it began, where it will end is not known. I watch in wonder, barefoot on the grass, the juice of a stolen plum on my tongue.

3 comments:

  1. A wonderful word portrait of a moment in time. Lovely!

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  2. I see it all, and your image is beautifully expressed.

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  3. sounds wonderfully perfect and magical.

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