“See the Light” by Giulio Bernardi How neatly click blocks as they form the walls of box container; clay, baked dust pads prison, hope long flown, left to airless midnights. The keeper’s metals clank thrice bringing tasteless gruel; little more than corpse fuel and sensory morsels. Heat of stones tell seasons. At times I’m graced…
Tag: #FridayWritings
TSM230, Friday Writings 46, and earthweal’s OLW 138 — gone but not gone
Artwork photography by Antonio Mora I. The first of summer, when roses bloom, I saw you there in oak’s leafy shadow, a still, towering trunk, transfixed. I hurried along, now shivered, my hand a-tremble as key sought to impart salvation. It is now autumn’s end, and oak stands bare. Your form is gone, your presence…
