a missed train

a dark house full of warmth

teetering on the edge of a canyon

waterfalls
water gravity

where do you go?

underneath her circle pond she burried the dead racoon and gave him a proper send off. she invited her sister and best friend and they each read passages from a small book they held in their hands like a precious crystal. her sister went home and made soup from elbows and broken plastic. the men who ate it thanked her and went back to work, building a giant bridge accross open space, designed like a spider web. they climbed, growing arms with many fingered hands stretching outwards. they crossed, inching and speeding like drunkards on a tight rope, skinning their hands on the pavement on the other side. the fall was impossible, bounded by nets of elastic force and the tangible fear they might fall forever through the stars and many yesterdays. they continued on crossing rivers run dry and dripping and sucking back to their source. inside a cavern cave armor hold, sunlight. growth and determination. does it break out and return?

the landscape is crumpling and flexing and scarred. when the river runs backwards it brings the different colored downstream soil. the meadow is confused, its memory clouded by wilted winter vegitation waiting for the sun.

banana

banana

banana
banana