Photographer, writer, filmmaker, wandering lost soul...
Yesterday, when I couldn’t even barely talk, I tried to explain How ink holds to bond, blue changes white, flowers break stones…
By A. F. Litt7 years ago in Poets
Crossing from there to here... Crossing from stone to stone… In the wadi, desert winds blow hot Dust into the eyes
In a way, The twilight sky Reminds. Cold, clear water That feeds jungles of Unseen mosses And tiny spiders Lurking in the depths.
It is all done now but for the mopping up and we now know our fates, which we hate, hate... disdainfully swept aside like so many crumbs from