today, rebirth
in a playground of these wooly
angels of death.
so quiet, they
hover in the void -
a palpable absence
whose nameless vacuum
touches me,
my own little corners of death
released
pulled from the sadness
that winters in my bones,
and making room
for the the little corners of life
that seek to be born.
photos and poem by Kimberly Warner
30 Jul 2012 / 0 notes / kimberly warner