Thursday, May 13, 2010

"He walks towards my place, nearby.  The winds stopped and now a gentle breeze in my face and I drink it in.  His foot-fall is rhythmic and steady as he walks into my view.  I move from one foot to another and he gains the distance in each track.  I speak in a tone and listens, he looks to me and climbs, looks back and vanishes.  He is gone, but the breeze moves him along a new trail.  The wind returns now and I stand in gravel...my visit."






No comments:

Post a Comment