we caught - you - were laughing
alone
in the moment that yesterday glare met the tomorrow sun
next was a conversation between the trees
twins
born out of necessity twenty seven years ago
they were young and weak when you entered the world
elated
they knew your parents well - they and the grass
the hope of landscape is repetition for survival
individuality
is often the death of natures spirit
if you breathe big or hold the frame they will kill you
those
who know nothing of life love - which is many
there are two kinds of wind flowing through the scapes and scrapers
one
is beautiful and gentle and blows your hair as your hair wishes to be blown
the other speaks only fierce dialogue and does not hear your heart
angry
it takes away those and that which we require for continuance
so if the bad wind blows - hold tight to the trees and the grass and the sky
try
because along with the seeds away will fly your smile
Photo by Sadie Myers. Words by Dustin Whitehead.
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