Thursday, June 10, 2010
Growth in Dust of War
Winter is a war
frozen
consuming
We break from a false skin
and grow
new leaves
any-how
Spring is not our last chance
Our last battle
Our last song
Our last riddles
are only waiting for the winter to arrive
Labels:
acufine,
black and white,
fixer,
home development,
Ilford,
outdoors,
poem,
Trees,
Tri-x
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