Wasting my eyes on small type
Running from left to right
Still respectful of borders
The letters sporting as best they can
Within the pasture of the page.
I long for a landscape where the words
Can run all day and clear out of sight
And where I can sit on a hill
And watch them go until whatever
Story they have to tell disappears
And is lost to me but continuing
Somewhere to be continued carried
Along to the next reader in the relay
Who will just have to imagine for themselves
The parts of the story they have already
Missed just as I will somehow have to
Find some way to invent my own ending.
I love this! You have such a knack for combining words and photographs. They really compliment each other, resulting in mutual enhancement.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Oreo.
ReplyDeleteBeautifully visual.
ReplyDelete