violet sky
- Dark leaves
- Holding plastic bags, walking home, together
- Dangling thick strands of vines dim green then dark when the lamp post’s light briefly flickers
- Two ember dots behind
- A tiny dog I can barely hear
- Traffic signs suddenly glowing as light strikes light
- Fluttering brown moth large old with middle wings hollow struggling to get off the middle of the road
- litte Green house they put their garbage below the lamppost, a faithful prtner
- The night is a shadow with outgrowths of
- Green vines on an electric cable like tattered old women clothes red fruits dangling from them one too ripe you must hold your breath when you pass lest it falls
- Christmas lights still on eight months after
- Guest house lighted gloriously with all the lights of the world but empty
- The problem with asking the big questions is that when you are patient enough to ask “why” repeatedly it will take you up there. But up there, you’ll end up realizing that there is nothing there or we can never be sure about anything. If we are then we shouldn’t have all these specualtions about what is the nature of God and the purpose of life.
- Dim orange curtains dark inside
- Smells of all kinds of rotten fruit. At dona aurora, the smell is bland to bitter. At another street sour like perfume sprayed on the wrong neck