Monday, July 7, 2014
i love thunderstorms
a thunderstorm at night. clean air. i buried my wife last year. i buried a hope yesterday. no you. now she. in my garden and with ashes of burnt wood. surrounded by luxuriously growing green. a stone on top. now i am the king of my life again. no queen to join. no roses. but clean air, bird song and open roads.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)