Share this story
Close X
Switch to Desktop Site

Vine Leaves

The vine, it's rich green swaying leaves gone long ago with the November wind, now clings stark and hungrily to the gray stone wall - it's filigree of branches delicately woven, it's hidden beauty boldly chiseled in bas-relief of black ... A fan spread out in tracery.

Suddenly there is movement. Shining, irradiant starlings fastened to the outspread veins stir ever so slightly, flutter, and are still again.

About these ads

Dreaming sequins on a black lace fan!