"his name on the owl's tongue" is a line that will stay with me, especially as l walk to the sea and listen to the cry and chatter of birds that wade in the shallow water of the lagoon. Who gives flesh and bone to the names they call out? And there are ghosts in the oaks and pines of this village. Thank you for your blog as always. Hope the winter is treating you well.
It's odd, how lines just show up ...That you can walk to the sea is a wonderful thing. The winter seems to be on its way out ... we shall see ... So good to hear from you ...
Were I a ghost, those trees would seem a very nice place to be. They look soft, as is the call of the owls.
I like the mysterious, softness to them, too. :)
Elegiac images elegantly assembled. Difficult to do. I learn here.
Thank you, Geo., what a nice compliment. :)
So atmospherically evocative, Teresa, and a shadow of what I saw last night.
So often our experiences mirror each other ... I love that and look forward to hearing more ...Thank you so much for visiting here and commenting. :)
Provocative and terrifying simultaneously! Rediscovered some of my fears from childhood!
Interesting ... I like that it contains layers I was unaware of... thank you for telling me that.
Life in the Bush of Ghosts.......
What time is it there, Tony... ;)))
And, I wish I am the mist:)
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