Summers to fall


roots-8

A wonder…the basic instinct of it all…

first the simplistic breath…

then a faded footprint in the sand.

My legs?

Just given devices…

Or, holding places for where others have stood.

And, only the naturalist response…

‘this could be bad or this could be good.’

The glint of solid granite, now an organically round pebble…on a vacated piece of land.

A scratch of leather leaf…

tones and contrast set in the wild…deep and deeper.

Summers to fall, like the strangers we meet.

Everyday avoiding contact with the others…with feet on the street.

The yet to be defined art of nature has occupied me for a day.

Under the truth of my microscope…

I am nothing but a careless calloused spectacle on display.

summers-to-fall-1 summers-to-fall-2 summers-to-fall-3

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