There is a poem in every cloud as it moves across the sky, not my fault so I don't ask why. Pegasus, a lone winged horse with long mane in the wind flying towards the sun in a race it will never win. Dark canvass this mythological scene is set upon, in day not night the white horse cloud runs like a drift. Detail and size changing every second, expansion to the atmosphere as it moves further it starts to lift. Minutes pass rising higher until it pulls apart. I look back down towards earth as alone as the horse I just saw disappear into the sky, the only sound I hear, my beating heart.
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
Pegasus Cloud/Thought of the Week
I made this image recently from up high with the manual 105mm.
There is a poem in every cloud as it moves across the sky, not my fault so I don't ask why. Pegasus, a lone winged horse with long mane in the wind flying towards the sun in a race it will never win. Dark canvass this mythological scene is set upon, in day not night the white horse cloud runs like a drift. Detail and size changing every second, expansion to the atmosphere as it moves further it starts to lift. Minutes pass rising higher until it pulls apart. I look back down towards earth as alone as the horse I just saw disappear into the sky, the only sound I hear, my beating heart.
There is a poem in every cloud as it moves across the sky, not my fault so I don't ask why. Pegasus, a lone winged horse with long mane in the wind flying towards the sun in a race it will never win. Dark canvass this mythological scene is set upon, in day not night the white horse cloud runs like a drift. Detail and size changing every second, expansion to the atmosphere as it moves further it starts to lift. Minutes pass rising higher until it pulls apart. I look back down towards earth as alone as the horse I just saw disappear into the sky, the only sound I hear, my beating heart.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment