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	Westering forborne This is for the dried orange peels in my life.


On the darkest day just before winter, I shuffled along a narrow path cutting through derelict factories. I was alone but felt crowded by the shadows of brick mounds. Past the gimcrack gates, I found my old home with a view of the sea. But I could not open the door and was left to regard its peeling exterior. So much has changed but the sea was the same. And then I felt Poseidon’s wrath on the Greeks - never did I feel so raw. germanicus2 · Sat Dec 01, 2007 @ 12:10am · 0 Comments


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