Dark

The power of the pink moon wakes me. Stumbling out of bed, I wander barefoot through half-lit rooms looking through distorted glass while my eyes attempt to adjust. What if I let them stay blurry? What if I simply see what’s there? Maybe beauty does exist in the imperfections. The flowers tell me so. I follow the sounds to the beach and surrender.

“Oh moon, I have begun
to envy you
your terrifying
powers”
—Henry Virgin

The fourth full moon of the year arrived on my birthday while on vacation at Dillion Beach. The moon proved elusive and all my photos turned out distorted. I had no choice but to embrace the imperfections and play with them.

Let me know if you have a favorite. These photos were taken with an Olympus OM-D and edited with ON1 Photo RAW.

in Winter
in all Winters
it lays dormant inside
domed darkness

you walk past it looking nowhere
anywhere, but not there
never there

yet it goes still
growing bedrock feral
mushroom bellied
lichen ferocious
trapping pain web-like
crackling like ice
smelling like bruised desperation
like untouched skin
like hot ash scattered by eroded winds

you don’t need to see
to feel

you walk faster looking nowhere
anywhere, but not there
never there

yet it goes still
like tides
like movement
Spring saplings tap-dancing
on rooted tiptoes
daffodils issuing battle cries
thrusting spears upward
dandelion puffs cooing
dreaming light again
there’s a light somewhere
he says

your nested winds sigh
your meadow grasses rustle
your waters ripple gently

just a bit longer
you tell your forest
hold tight