Found this beautiful tree online and attempted.
It is standing where it was; still, quiet and patient. Cycles of seasons have played reasons for green, brown and nude. Memories scowl with a gust of wind, scalding the fresh tissue revealing cuts of a young beau
A tiny world beats among the crowd screams so loud without trace of Pleats it came in a box, goes by Pandora, filled with aura- self-incurred hoax agony- it incurs as melancholy blows in heart of darkness it comes alive
Warmth of our togetherness rose to peaks of new highness, freezing the clouds, melting the whites, to the brook flowing to the rift between us yet so far away from my view; I stand, from where I see only a silhouette there.
DISPLAY VS REALITY DISPLAY REALITY This happens to everybody; some of us ignore it while some get really pissed off.… Continue reading DISPLAY VS REALITY
A long stretch -- barbed wire, naked trees; dancing with the wind. I walk through them, lonely and skeptic, vigilant, scanning through the still giant. Relieved upon seeing a walker. Wait! what was I afraid of?