Tag Archives: field

Canticle

Thistles, structuring a feral paragraph in open space, as the stray feather, cruciform to fence, parlays the canticle of Muse, unfettered.

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Van Gogh, Wheat Field

It is what you might call omen-brushed yellow, a virulent scare, its quotient graded just below dark, and subtly so. A sky raining crows, like a scandal of mustaches, or handlebar dissent. Yellow crosses daring a blight, or braving a … Continue reading

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