A dream of sending a rocket to the moon. Dusk in the loft of a barn, I promise no harm to the sole feline crew who meows and complies. The rest of the night I wait and watch the night sky for her safe return.
Incessant wind, howling over exterior walls. Treetop branches bent to cruel angles, don’t fall. Passing car.. heavy beat… otherwise the street is bare, save for the eerie atmosphere. Continue reading “The Wind”
Sunlight reluctantly relinquishes the bay, replaced slowly by sheer, burnt-orange veils falling gently over every hard surface. Silently all is wrapped in carbon-black; inspired and unimaginative structures alike, effortlessly redacted. Power lines and gutters painlessly dissolve, leaving thousands of amber cells of light to my left and right, and a few at Ashton Park, across the bay to the North, sparkling like suspended gems in the night. Suddenly, a cool breeze. Trees in Beare Park shift and whisper – a conspiracy of leaves, aching to speak, but bound by age-old vows of secrecy. As dark as it is now, I can still tell water from sky… a deep, still blue-black under a black-black starless heaven tonight.