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Writer’s night, by Britta Benson

Here’s a silly one… of sorts. Just me playing around with the shadorma form. Learning. Also looking into ways of describing the colour of dusk. Be warned. I’ll be looking into dawn next… Writer’s night Dusk, egg yolk spreads on angel wings. Last light hurts, clock ticks, tocks, pen seeks shelter on thin lines. PagesContinue reading “Writer’s night, by Britta Benson”


Farewell’s welcome, by Britta Benson

Farewell’s welcome Sea after sunset, last glimpse of dusk. The air cool now, empty, light. Sudden sense of blue, leaving, leaving, left, all traces wiped. Moon invites what does not belong to vanish in the ripples of this night. Room for the other half. Silver, subtle, ripe.

Found & Lost, by Britta Benson

A couple of days ago, I felt limp and low until the very moment dusk set in and suddenly, unexpectedly, changed the sky into a vibrant field of pink carnations, all swirling in the blushing pink sky and my mind dived right in there. This gift of an inspiring sunset made the whole rubbish dayContinue reading “Found & Lost, by Britta Benson”