Sunday, January 19, 2014

A Fleeting Night





Walking down the path from the dune through the sharp hair pinned grass that moves by the motions of the wind.   The light isn’t trapped here it breathes from the sky ambient orange-blues-greens, envious light that can cast silhouettes of its passengers here.
The sound found here carries the lakes ominous fleet of feeling of sand and drought.  Everything is hushed by the howling of the wind that whistles a leafless tune of shadows night.  Another city can be found across the skyline that pronouncing Lake Michigan. 
A place of destination filled with lights and troublesome wind. 

The throwing of waves, splashing its water beneath its creeping yet vast body of grinding rocks an stone that has been turned into bountiful ashes of pebbles and sand filled with timeless space.  The ground has many forms of mass it courses with a grinding ting of still but bountiful coldness. A tranquil space were ones breath can’t be heard through the cavities of the body.  The feelings of being looked upon by nature, unscathed in judgment.  Many tumultuous thoughts are carried and left here: by night.


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