Passage from my journal

Sept 1st

Thin lined pencil marks the solemn face upon the wall. Barbed wire encircles the bastions from the forgotten church beyond and birds of iridescent blue play hop scotch over metal frames.

Looking onwards in mute companionship with the children leaving the deaf school over to the right, the profile’s high cheek bones and bald scalp betray it’s owner’s elegance.

And it is if a stricken artist left this mark, bereft of paper, she chose this wall on this red sand streaked alley of metal gates and gaping mouthed children to leave behind this face.

This poised, unmoving visage and silent watcher.


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