Gathered here amongst the rocks in this abandoned excerpt of time…
. . . . .
On this Tuesday afternoon there is more-or less-to it than the unhurried come and go of a solid sleepwalking shadow. Nearly but not quite it nonchalantly mingles with the world by chance. Quietly, like nothing very special, it passes like the wink of each second from an unheard clock some distant village away.
. . . . .
Come tomorrow, when you draw it back, the day is sure to return far beyond your mind’s ungainly sketch of it – and the shadows too, half-hidden in self-regard. Imagine if you will, yourself amongst them, in summertime – simply passing through.
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