Seldom a face of true beauty
At ease in a quicksand of crowds
Dead leaves cover the garden
Sun squints between massed clouds
The land locked gulls are crying
Trevor John Karsavin Potter
December 13th. 1971 - January 8th. 2013.
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If I were a camera I would zoom in directly On winter trees loud with anthracite crows, The ice white ripples on a cold shallow lake; The da... -
With you not here beside me Life seems a near blank page With only a comma on it. A solitary smudge of ink Where words should build cathedr...
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Buying incense by moonlight - The swiftly jostling crowds are all strangers. I walk slowly through the mob Eyes tracking my footsteps becaus...
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