courtney love in BLK & WHT
Posted
from NY
just an impression
Stillness in motion.
Cold confronts warmth
Cloud as breath.
Force upon the gentle
A blanket of spears.
Limbs twist and bow
Crying in the night.
Revealing new forms
In soft violence.
Posted
from New York, NY
The Market
the crowd surges
upon shelves
of endless bounty
the aroma
of herbs and green
of flowers and fruit
of bread and honey
of apples and maple
they swirl about
wide open eyes
their voices loud
humbled
by the clambering
of feet
the colours
they bleed
merging
in a sea of plenty
of toil and pride
of shared tables
of history's memory
in the joy
of connection
with the land
permanent impermanence...
those impressions
we leave,
discarded 'til
erosion returns,
to clean,
and remake,
to wash away,
so smooth again,
like lost whispers
that remain.
looking out,
up, across,
and finally within
the horizon will fade.
