The sun has set and I can’t find the moon
Any light at this hours is artificial.
Awaiting the earth turn, my face aging with all the tears,
I go sleeplessly unnoticed appreciating the not so quiet dark.
And so on
Edge
Brown curling edges diagnosed
a death or disease supposed
but growing still with eastern light
reaching still in winter’s blight
buds reach high and hopeful
settled and composed
Dusk
Choreographed in complexity
Dark yet
Heavy tones spiraling out with exhausted sighs
doxology
fine lines
Amid the broken fragments
smoothed
by time and trauma,
lie spaces
thinned and shattered,
spellbound by weathered hope
and promise.
Blending
Lost in the colors
of neighbors with barren views
desperate
everyone blending
searching
for a place called home
Christmas Angel… saving 2020
Creating Christmas
This season is both new and old.
Treasure both.
Delish!
Holding on to summer.
Dressed dogs, lightly deviled eggs, and grilled nectarine.
#photography
#foodforfun
Bloom.
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