Adrift

Adrift1

‘The air is heavy with the soporific essence of wildflower, oozing slowly beneath summer’s sun. My mind is a million thoughts away, somewhere north, adrift like breeze-blown blossom. I know when you’re thinking of me. The barometer in my heart changes to fine, and I feel moon glow, the magnetic pull that lures me to you. No matter that you’re another lifetime ago, another lifetime away. The past and future always weaves its way into the present.’

Images | Words: Carol Anne Strange

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