Wednesday, November 6, 2013

Voice Memo. Night.

It is 4 in the morning.
You blink.
Now it is not any more. It is 4:12 or 4:14 or 4:16.
The present is always rolling away
like wind in the trees
like tears
like breath
like life.

The photograph was taken at night, while anchored off of Nanaimo, BC.

No comments:

Post a Comment