Wednesday, 13 January 2010

Today we love what tomorrow we hate!” Those words for things and songs in the wind and feelings of seeing and sounds, those little shivers and quivers, those small things like water meeting toes and sand and grass on bare feet, those meetings those greetings, wispy white clouds and distant bells called illiswilgig , the depths where canon lie melting into the rocks and kelp and creature living within the smell of gunpowder long gone and the paint from hull hauled along and running through water and rolling on sand and the helping hand the bandage and smell of cream to heal the grazes where pavements use to meet the hedgerows where birds build their homes and puddles that glitter and children leap, the tinkering sound, fluttering moths, candle like light and sleep and heroic pedestrians.

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