Dead Leaves

You still remember the scent of crushed leaves basking in the mud, the sun choking out their water. The inviting aroma of dead leaves would anchor itself in the air of a hot, sunny day. It was the time of farewells and goodbyes, tears and nostalgia for a past that could not be undone. At […]

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URBAN

torn black streets echo in grey clouds under a blue sky. cemented high rises curtains to a crowded audience. rubber spines of beggars bent under the heavy sun. slow shutter speed many faces trapped in an obscure plot.

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The Chief

The Porqupine Stood in the middle of the road, Quills pointed in defence mode, He was going to write a novel, With my blood And his hundred quills. The twilight twisted slowly into night, And I stepped back Out of respect For he looked like a native American chief With his white and black spears  […]

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