A Desert Morning
Random tufts of grass rise from the patterned
cracks of the clay-pan in a scene telling of the
heavy rainfalls of previous months. Standing
there with colours being fused by the morning
light and a niggling breeze, the grass appears
to come alive as if in a strange, motionless
dance across the middle of the drying soak.
Words by Eli
Read 747 times
Written on 2010-05-18 at 13:51
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John Ashleigh |
| Texts |
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