the tide is ebbing. time for the old sailor to express the transience and emptiness of it all in a single breath. a final, salty breath.
ocean wind –
the wings of an albatross
become a flute
Stephen Toft
the tide is ebbing. time for the old sailor to express the transience and emptiness of it all in a single breath. a final, salty breath.
ocean wind –
the wings of an albatross
become a flute
Stephen Toft