Telling: Streams & Logs


Taking myself out

7am. Thurs

I saw mud and grass, grit and twig and leaf. Evidence of violent passings, feather starbursts and smears of fur. Secret green places run rampant. A father encouraging his daughter to be good, the weight of her in her pink dress resting on the crook of his arm. The dangle of her white shoes. A white cat, brown rabbit, grey squirrel. The fluting of doves.