After a long break, a little bit of peace for your morning from the Irrawaddy.
River Peaces
Tag: spilled ink
Shattered Statues
I am thinking about the lost things.
Morning in the Ghats
Mornings in the Ghats are an exercise in pastel.
Symphony in White
Egrets sing sonatas in the movement of their wings.
In Otter Disbelief
They come in a shout, a brief cry of astonishment.
maybe my heart is full of sky
so maybe the only thing separating loving and living is an oh of amazement – the breathless sound the sky makes when falling the final gradient from dusk to twilight and back again, the way your eyes keep searching for stars only an evenmist away, how your fingertips keep feeling for worlds closeted within atoms,… Continue reading maybe my heart is full of sky
Ballet in Black-and-white
March in London, and the lapwings dance.
Victorian England at 12,000 Feet
A tea party at the water's edge.
Death Among the Wildflowers
because you see, this is how it goes: ...
Evanescence
forgive me for wanting to drown in the sky, some days - for wanting to tear out my heart and gift-wrap it in clouds to bequeath the sun.
somewhere up a tree 