it seems so probably impossible that only yesterday, sunday, came into being without me. without the outer form of me me me to let it explode. today i explore what it may have been, and what is - is that it was that. that day of improbable possibility, and that now - is past and passed into something that feels like yesterday already..... lately, time is lost to me as the sun sets so exquisitely within my sighted range. A PLACE TO CRY, A PAINTING TO MATCH LYNN BRESCIA'S POEM....Lynn, if you see this can i quote your poem here?? |
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AuthorRobin Ross, a painter Archives
January 2015
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