11 January 2014

redecorating


Before we can start scraping off the wallpaper, all the books have to be packed away into boxes. I am surprised at how uncomfortable this makes me feel. The bookshelves and I are unable to meet each other's gaze, ashamed at the bare truth of what we have suddenly become.

winter trees     nothing to read but my palimpsest Self 

  

3 comments:

  1. Just stumbled into your blog from Writing Our Way Home, where they featured a small stone from you today. Your words, and especially your photos of the Pembrokeshire coast, are so sad and mysterious and lovely. Gorgeous stuff.

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  2. Oh yes, I can see these tinyhaibun working well for you.

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  3. Thanks for the message Mark, will email ST. Having a break from Twitter btw...

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