Murmuration 08.01.2017


As the heat rises, I prepare for the sun to beat down in full force on open-mouthed crows and panting dogs and for everything to fall as quiet as those summer nights as a child, when I climbed trees in the dark and found solace in their wooden arms, closed and safe in a hollow of branches. It’s another strange day of missed routines as I try and fail to find some rhythm in life but fall prey to that backward planet again.