saturday walkers
party of one
β
but who stood here before me?
barren
but I feel their presence
β
β
in the smears on the barks
in the trail that parts the forest floor
was it the wind?
or was it her weakness?
disappearing into sunshine
melting into lakes
β
β
β
now the clouds part &
β
the moon whispers
goodnight
β
β
still standing
β
but she is
β
broken
β
β
barren, broken, beautiful.
β
β
full text of 'birdsong' artists' book
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