Smoke waltzing on the dance floor of a blue February dusk, the trees forced naked by winter's grasp as a wander of songbirds Chortle their way through the brush:
- avert my wanting gaze -
Touch destined to trouble no more tremble on those icy sheets
- emerald green -
Feet unsteady mind unstable life unseated by loss
- alone -
Image created using a 6-hole pinhole camera.