I left my self in a field, growing and dying with the seasons. Now, in another place, rooted to the soul of things, inhaling and exhaling cold light – the breath and the witness of life.
I left my self in a field
Originally published: Oct 2003
Originally published: Oct 2003
I left my self in a field, growing and dying with the seasons. Now, in another place, rooted to the soul of things, inhaling and exhaling cold light – the breath and the witness of life.