three hundred and forty eight degrees: ‘overgrown in gold…’
Dry Grass And Shadows ~ Alela Diane
such is life’s
mystery :
even in death
~
beauty
( e x i s t s )
*
And when you laugh all the star thistles stumble out…
One comment on “three hundred and forty eight degrees: ‘overgrown in gold…’”
Leave a reply to seanbidd Cancel reply
Favourite degrees…
360*tree 
Even as time keeps on as it fails to rest, for all the chances falling down beneath the deep and dry, moments of solace caught waking all alone, on a wind swept history boot-laced to the sky’s honey warmth, something about how the fade of colours walk in a different way, in their moment of beauty, with the way they stay, conversations listening into every gilded word to the way you breathe, to life’s hands brushing soft beneath the shadows, in the stillest of dances. Sometimes, too many fall as we pass, as a red earth waits for welcome rain.
It’s been a musical afternoon today, B, and your words above from a short time ago found me singing as I followed your lead, off to listen to the Dry Grass and Shadows now. Hope your Sunday is a good one, cheers, Sean