The dirty mud streets
Filled with pig shit and garbage.
The buildings, also of mud,
Rising higilly pigilly;
Mostly windowless.
Old gray doors out
To long gone balconies.
Everything enshrouded
In a heavy soul-sucking mist.
No mountains, no sunshine
no coloured wild flowers.
And then a bird sings.
Nova Scotia Artist, Joy Laking, posts ramblings while she's travelling and painting in South America.
Wednesday, March 28, 2012
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment