Photographs, mostly in Portland Oregon, mostly in color.
It's sinking! I think Emily Dickinson wrote a poem about that.
DELAYED till she had ceased to know, Delayed till in its lawn doth grow Her loving palm tree lay. An hour behind the tropic breath, Sinking beneath the grass of death,— Oh, sagging trailer bay!Sorry Emily
I like your re-vision,.Your photo reminded me of her poem that does not begin like this:Because I could not stop for Death,He kindly stooped for me;The carriage held but just ourselves,one painted flow'r and tree....and does not end like this:We paused before a house that seemedA swelling of the ground;The roof was scarcely visible,The cornice but a mound.Since then 'tis centuries; but eachFeels shorter than the dayI first surmised the roses' headsreflect'd un-drawn chamois.Very sorry.
Portland Oregon
3 comments:
It's sinking! I think Emily Dickinson wrote a poem about that.
DELAYED till she had ceased to know,
Delayed till in its lawn doth grow
Her loving palm tree lay.
An hour behind the tropic breath,
Sinking beneath the grass of death,—
Oh, sagging trailer bay!
Sorry Emily
I like your re-vision,.
Your photo reminded me of her poem that does not begin like this:
Because I could not stop for Death,
He kindly stooped for me;
The carriage held but just ourselves,
one painted flow'r and tree.
...and does not end like this:
We paused before a house that seemed
A swelling of the ground;
The roof was scarcely visible,
The cornice but a mound.
Since then 'tis centuries; but each
Feels shorter than the day
I first surmised the roses' heads
reflect'd un-drawn chamois.
Very sorry.
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