Molt

From one utterance to the next.

birch tree photography

They were symbols, sure, but don’t ask of what.
It was a restless practice of experimentation––
over time.

Here is an art seeded across generations,
its braided roots the scales of a skin
shedding itself unto a new body.

Author: Stacey C. Johnson

I keep watch and listen, mostly in dark places.

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