| ||||
Gently and slowly washing life away. |
Its raining, and I am in pain. My brain is a bit switched off, so here are some photos of my father's garden.
I was neither at the hot gates, Nor fought in the warm rain, Nor knee deep in the salt marsh, heaving a cutlass, Bitten by flies, fought.
1 comment:
"It is raining, and I am in pain"
I like that, along with the photos, a sort of beautiful simplicity about the nature of just how things are. Or how pain is part of nature, just like the flowers.
Post a Comment