moving clouds there and then ahead of you that suddenly change the form of what grew. gone with the wind’s decision.
as we walk the dusty road through the mist of no despair leading us somewhere the clouds stand still.
cold thursday 18
as I gaze out, a bright light ray shines through a tiny crack of leaves. whispering in the breeze. smoke guides out the window, disappears in the hight of oblivion. gloomy.