Category: Photography
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lunch time….
bamboo…for two…
unless you can carry it away with your teeth…
and “hide” in the trees….
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out in the forest…here in an out of the way part of America..
sure now there probably was a building here at one time, but what were they doing organizing these large stones in such a way. Were they fans of Stonehenge? Or, was there a barn here?
what do you think?
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for a tiger…
for a brown bear….
for a leopard…
and even for a bobcat…
but someone had to stay awake…to watch out for any monkey business…
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we, like grey spindly-legged sentinels
move for nothing but the wind
or the cascade of the rain upon noisy ground
you, bleeding on fire-touched leaves
move time’s sunset to timeless sunrise
and capture trinity in my photo frame.
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she hides in plain sight, her brown blending with other brown…but the earth suddenly not so horizontal, she appears at second glance. it was only because I stopped to attend to my own nature, that she appeared at all…
which begs the question…what else did I miss on my journey?
it is a question many ask as we grow to a certain age, or pass into an unplanned quadrant, or suddenly find ourselves- without a spouse, without a plan, or without a head of hair. i found myself with one last planned appointment…on my way to nowhere, caught by a passing glance…
…somewhere between someone’s somewhere, and no network’s anywhere.
…on a road regularly driven in the center, to avoid wandering off the edges and falling precipitously hundreds of feet below to end up as an unexplainable statistic in this year’s road fatalities. one does not simply drive down the road, but rather eases the vehicle gently down her surface, avoiding eye contact with any strangers. unless they are standing along the road waiting for time…
to change some horrible deficiency. for this unfortunate soul, nature was kinder to her than any resident, even if it longed to cover her with a creeping vine.
but her vacancy is no stranger to these ridges…scattered among the thorns and thistles, they appear like an occasional page in a picture book…or in a theatre, a historical set the stage manager has forgotten to remove. and while the green screen still covers most of the countryside, offering possibilities, no one wants to invest in building anything here, except memories of a mostly forgotten past.
The Lost Kerryman 