Sunday, November 21, 2010

Softened at the Edges


Sometimes death arrives on folded feathers.

4 comments:

TaraDharma said...

every day, life is coming and going, being born and busy dying. Sweet bird - I hope it had a good life. I like the visual and metaphoric softening at the edges. Nicely done.

T. Clear said...

Tara, it's been seven years today since M. died.... I'm hoping for softening at the edges, more and more each day. xoT.

Cro Magnon said...

I hate to find dead birds, especially beneath a plate glass window. As Tara says, one just hopes it had a good life... What more is there?

TaraDharma said...

T. - the post became more clear after reading your FB post. Now, the 'softening at the edges' in relation to your dear sweet Mark, is poignant indeed. Love and heart-felt embraces to you.