Downpour
The waning snow
As rain unearths
That raw clay—
Adam's afterbirth—
No one escapes I lie down, immerse
Myself in sleep
The windows weep
Self Employed
Piling up the years
I awake in one place
And find the same face
Or counting the time
Since my parents died-
Certain less is left
Than was spent—
I am employed
Every morning
Whose ore I coin
Without knowing
How to join
Lid to coffer
Pillar to groin—
Each day hinges
On the same offer
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more pictures by this photographer can be found here:
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