Friday, May 22, 2015

March / Waking up

                   




Rain is descending in a slow motion, twisting and rescaling the time frame. 
Straight lines tilt and subside into the ground. 
Sky and earth connected with resizable water strings are playing whispering tune, distracted only by the murmuring tires of passing cars. 
Lights sliding from the slippery surface of the road disappear into the dark. 
Just a touch of spring, a whiff, raising waves within, waking up sleeping ghosts, rattling windows with gusts of moist wind, uncovering new hopes under the dead leaves of time.
Tired eyelids are trembling, still reactant to let the world in, shielded with torn dreams melting away layer after layer.

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