SuziCate's Musings

The Last Dance

Flower of fringes swirls her skirt in the sunlight. It feels like freedom before we crumple to a heap of ash and blend with what sleeps beneath.

Flower of fringes
swirls her skirt in the sunlight.
It feels like freedom
before we crumple
to a heap of ash and blend
with what sleeps beneath.

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Comments on: "The Last Dance" (2)

  1. Beautiful photo and prose!

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