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In the cities all hope was lost as I watched small birds collide against a vast expanse of shimmering glass. The solitude of humans, though bitter, seemed a motionless ghost alongside the frantic spectacle of moths undone by so many false moons. Knife held tight, my dogs and I traveled by night since daylight only revealed the tremendous cruelty of enforced order. In hiding I created works of permanence in oil and silk until a man in a flying machine offered to fly me out over a glorious winding river, and back to where I belong. All of it is left behind now, all except for the long and winding river which now runs through the lush green valley below me, a constant reminder of the polluted worlds which I once found at its end. << Back |
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