Everything seems to be too momentarily. The stops, the pauses. Pass by like a lifetime. A memory of a familiar face. Now unknown to me,. In a distant place from here,. A place with no goodbyes. I think in a memory before time,. A familiar face, A familiar name. For the face I saw. For the name I uttered.

Some People Feel The Rain Poetry Photography Prose. Walking along a woodland path,. She chanced upon a gentle stream. And stopped for a moment of quiet reflection,. Each released from its former purpose,. Perhaps once feeling discarded,. In an infinity of stillness,.

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