Words on a hidden cloud
Poems and dreams
I long to visit
when the silence is the only echo.
Threads of time
past into present silence
Words about exotic birds
flying over my ocean,
when I was land, sky, salt air. Untouchable, forever moving.
Now
muggy sands
dried from receding waters,
inclement weather,
whispering winds. A boat lopsided. Shipwrecked .
Paddling in vain through entangled seaweeds
Stagnant
forever motionless.
poems & photography by Marco Pignataro