The storm

The storm began suddenly. Eager trees swayed at the shoulders skeletal but never menacing. Heavy grey sheet draped across the rooftops, trapping the wind as it raced through the streets obeying the solidity of buildings but leading branches and leaves in a primal dance. The rain joined in, carousing with a howl hips quivering and … More The storm


We movers flit like moths from light to light backpack half packed roots never penetrating the depths of depth, caressing surfaces like winter sun on skin. We are the same, us and them but we, like Buddhas or apocalypse-lovers, see the end unshrouded by promises or love or infinity, we live mortal lives taking the … More Movers