Memory

The Quiet Path Behind Evening Oak

How long I have stood here, all the past seems has not changed at all into present. The same scarlet sky, the similar humid thin air, and this warm breeze out of nowhere. This floating feeling, this lightened breath, and this softened ground. How long I have stood here.

I have no story, I have no sonnet, and I have no poetry. This path is just a simple void between my days and nights, between my awareness and my ignorance. And by its’ nature, it has become a quiet path.

Continue reading

Standard