01 December 2007



459
In primitive without thought
Of stars underfoot, the silica grains,
The unsyllabled all between our toes--
And in the sun-bent grass the arc of time--
Our eyes on the blue-ruled edge.

4 comments:

Pacian said...

I like the way the buildings all seem to be at angles to one another, as if growing in uneven soil.

mark said...

that's right p, and i'm the iota

Anil P said...

Pixel for pixel this one is almost perfect.

It's strange how the city comes alive in contrasts more often than not.

mark said...

well, yah--that's the essence i guess anil-- do you notice the slight manipulation in this photo?