“People living deeply have no fear of death.”
Father, I have seen the eastward sky descending in a freefall, a raised fist in objection, the first bird, morning sparrow, end of night. There, where my pillow’s lain, her face in its cradle, a cool breeze wafting through the room, shadows in half-moons where kisses have left them, my lover’s eyes.
©2017 artwork, music & words
conceived by & property of
Tom (WordWulf) Sterner 2017©