Such a pensive state the clouds are in
It sits as a crown on the head of the mountain...
Gentle Autumn breeze, fly swiftly past me.
Bring forth cold breaths of new life...
Water risen high
Drawn by the rays of the sun...
Sitting quietly at Meyer Park
on the banks of Cypress Creek...
Leave something for me to imagine.
A skeleton in a pond...
Reared in bloody fields
Encourages a new hope...
She
knelt down...
You go for a daily ritual
to water a passion tree...
Spring's bringing leaflets
developing their flowers...
The shades of dawn
under the waning moon...
Entrailes were sucked by grief
and pleasure bruised...
When you were a baby
Just a small little sprout...