Sunday, June 22, 2008

when


When we’re aged angels. With these words written in the creases of our well-read faces. When our hair has fallen through too many shades of autumn and lies heaped beneath us, a knotted nest for our belated bones. When our gaze has cracked like china teacup sheen and all we see is sepia dreams. Of crosswords and washing machines. Then and only then.

3 comments:

MAN IN PAINTING said...

One of the bst i have read.I am honest.I loved your lines...so simple yet too deep...

dandelion said...

'Sepia dreams'... such beautiful words. And the picture is amazing...x

Crafty Green Poet said...

so beautiful and meditative - mysterious in a way too