Wednesday, September 07, 2011
Bron Yr Aur
drawing up all the things I love I fell into the car. Gathering my connections and setting them to place. Not in leaving but in reminding and telling. Telling the loved of places once loved and remembered. Streets shadowed with tales high and bold, that fall short when tried to be told. Hills dark in dusk laid out like a golden breast made smokey with forgotten fires upon behest.