March 16, 2005
On the way to moire
Truant today
but for an visit
from Anna Isabella,
infant,
and her mother,
who never imagined
she would come to be
A chance to sniff
the sweetness
wafting from her
baby brain
And a funeral too
such sadness
for my friend
who will never
breathe
that scent again
a day of
life and death
within an hour
touching
both the edges
of existence
Photo note: It's not moire, but it's across the street from some almost-moire, as you can see, and it's interesting. Almost a metamorphophoto, giving one a sense of motion through time.
