into the white lands - marco dadone -

December 11, 2020  •  Leave a Comment

 

 

 

 

I left with the blood of sprigtime dawns

 

 

 

and passed by the deception of summer


 

 

I cried with the last leaves 

 

 

 

and talked with the skeleton trees

 

 

 

I walked the line between seasons

like a cut in the skin

 

 

 

then with the first snow,

 

I entered the wood

 

 

 

my path cleared and my sight deeper

 

 

 

 

as the wihiteness came 

 

 

 

 

and slow flakes landed on my black hat.

 

 

 

 

 

I went on in my big boots

until I felt my nose no more

 

 

 

into things dissolving without a shadow

 

 

 

 

this meadow of cold air 

 

owns a blessed silence

 

 

 

 

 

 

I'm a jigsaw

 

 

 

 

 

parts of me are made by snow

 

 

 

 

 

the creacking of the branches

 

that robin with round eyes

 

 

 

 

are happiness

 

 

 

 

so my forest has changed

 

 

 

 

 

I'm with her

 

 

 

unraveling.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

All shots with SIGMA SD1 Merrill 

with SIGMA 135 mm Art,

SIGMA 28 mm Art,

SIGMA 24-105 Art

and SIGMA 8-16

in north west Italy.

 

 

 by marco dadone

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


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