[intangible memories]
... "come and shot my roses" Federica says to me ... and I go ... really beautiful the roses ... and endless bower of red roses, ... then she picks up from the ground a whitered rose and place it on a little gate ... I watch and while her hands is stretching undecided to take the rose again ... I shot ...
maybe the best shot of that day ... the useless, fallen and whitered rose but still charming as only a red rose can be ... her youg hand almost grazing the rose ... what will be for you, Federica, on the other side of that gate?
The gate is a place of passage it separates or join ... beyond the unknown ... memories ... intangible moments for us ... hopes for them, that have all the life ahead ...
No comments:
Post a Comment