Tuesday, October 9, 2012


Pure Dreams

Wisely cognizant of the subtle nature of time, he would escape into his dreams, by day and by night, filled with meanings unknown. He waited for autumn, the time of year when he could immerse himself in reds and oranges. Sleep escaped him in the endless hours spent walking through the forest and back at home, when he painted. The fever disappeared when winter arrived and he began to dream again, drowned in whites, greens, and blues.

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