Genur.art

the moving in the early dawn behind the shack where you whispered secrets where they pattered in the autumn rains like years in the crack where the dark water loomed and the love still rises behind the slumber where the heart beats in its briefcase, set down with the suit jacket and high waisted slacks on the floorboards the movement of the strings behind the doors where they pattered through their lives like lazy birds who didn't know how short and quick a life is and the love still rises and the sunlight sings around the curtains of your flimsy body at once in the early dawn window there is rain in the well where the dark water loomed there are birds in the traffic of the sky on the tapestry of noon James Turrell Style page