Closed, yet an illusion…
It’s her pictures
That open parts, …
Monthly Archives: December 2017
Morning mist,
Tangled branches without leaves,
Roots buried in the deep. …
A coffee with brandy please…
It feels cool,
Morning fog’s leaving, …
Time to burn the past.
Old papers from a different life,
Blood from the same old knife. …
A special village I know well in Catalonia is gradually getting smaller as the years pass. The younger generation migrating towards urban centers, the old slowly passing away. But the small town spirit…
Orange, in a sea of green…
Not belonging, misunderstood, unaccepted?
Perhaps. …
