15 April 2012
Frost kicked like ghosts from a Brennan Bread van's egg-yellow roof. The sun; a pale, watercolour picture box flicker behind each skeletal copse. Those willowy arms rose again from heavy, cold ground side scrolling soundtrack for country soul. Leaving the Old to Calith past Theos I saw the birds about their work while warm and kept the people slept.
J. x
Leaving Old Country (Ireland Under Snow) • Opuss № I