MELT

sponges start
to crack underneath
feet
in the lee of ice golden sparks
emerge on eyes

spark

spark

distant morning M6
roars on like a never
ending journey
lets go down and stand still

broken root

broken root

underneath frost from the past
lays the dew of the
future
not showing what
eyes see
appearing images of illusory stillness
like
expectation falling from
rain
let the mind dream a broken
way

rain

rain

squaling frozen leaves
conceal tramping feet
when the sun hits the ground
it all falls in drops
cold
strings
through
wellies
curl the toes while hanging low

pointer

pointer

the bow churn the way
cast iron pointer
shivering realization
into the body
down the yellow rose
where
the oak grows out of the owl

flow

flow

 

while walking down the tow path on a early frosty morning
thoughts that wander

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4 thoughts on “MELT

    • You know, when i am walking along, all these words comes to my mind, now i take a notebook and write it down and them words get twisted and turn into something that flows.
      Automatic writing in and with nature, therefor it is called written landscaped.

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