Sunday, 22 January 2017


Something is stirring. A ghostly flicker on a video tape, trapped between frames, or a half recalled smell from childhood. Unreachable.
Tightly curled, slowly unfolding, buried deep but pushing for the surface.
There is light behind the clouds.
A trill note dancing side side, up and down. Behind you, above you, swirling beyond your grasp.

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