The Vanishing Past
Springfield Park Gates
Sunnyside
A Bend In The Road.
Security
No Parking
nursery gates
Sahara Resort (1)
Royal Doulton
Locked gates
1 (115)a...austria vienna...door...graffiti
STR - Hickins [aka the Crossing Cafe]
Autumn Trees
Those Gates
Survival
Poppy Gate (PiP)
Honfleur - what is hidden
HFF Everyone!
Halloween Pumpkinheads at the Gate
Land Near Crummock Water and Buttermere
Washing on the Line in the Alley
08.51 Dilapidated Doors
08.50 Courtfield Gates
Church Porch Gates
Farm Entrance.
Koblenz Castle
Beanacre
Lydeard Hill (PiP) HFF!
Manor Court Cottage
Dilapidation, 2019
HFF Everyone!
The Prisoner
Gates
Vestige
Faded Glory No. 1
Faded Glory No. 2
The Dilapidated Gates Annual Examination
Seend, Wiltshire: Church of the Holy Cross
Date on the lock
A Fence By a Fence
Lancaster, Elizabethtown, and Middletown Turnpike…
Lancaster, Elizabethtown, and Middletown Turnpike…
EOS 6D Peter Harriman 12 14 52 3150 SeascapeEtAlRe…
Kissing Gate in Lover.
Sheep and Two Lambs.
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Places - Beanacre
Nikon D700 + Tamron 70-210mm f/2.8 LD SP (67DN) lens. Focal length 70mm.
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The Ball Poem
BY JOHN BERRYMAN
What is the boy now, who has lost his ball.
What, what is he to do? I saw it go
Merrily bouncing, down the street, and then
Merrily over—there it is in the water!
No use to say 'O there are other balls':
An ultimate shaking grief fixes the boy
As he stands rigid, trembling, staring down
All his young days into the harbour where
His ball went. I would not intrude on him,
A dime, another ball, is worthless. Now
He senses first responsibility
In a world of possessions. People will take balls,
Balls will be lost always, little boy,
And no one buys a ball back. Money is external.
He is learning, well behind his desperate eyes,
The epistemology of loss, how to stand up
Knowing what every man must one day know
And most know many days, how to stand up
And gradually light returns to the street,
A whistle blows, the ball is out of sight.
Soon part of me will explore the deep and dark
Floor of the harbour . . I am everywhere,
I suffer and move, my mind and my heart move
With all that move me, under the water
Or whistling, I am not a little boy.
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