transitory lasts

Finding myself in agreement
with the very lovely and
talented Helen James on
the point she has made here.

Some (somehow pure) images
haunt you forever. It's art when
that happens, and art that needs
to happen to move life ahead. What
remains (to haunt) right now?
Often, it is a little off.
A tad blurred.
A jaunt. A memory.
The glimmer of a thought. A muse.

To place it on the wall,
to hold it still. To inspire.

A spirit caught in time.


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