Poetic Expression Through Music

Arthur
Nasson

There's this breeze that winds it's way through trees and porches,
sometimes you can see the grass moving in a baseball field,
as dresses billow,
you turn a corner and see newspapers
caught up in this ,
as they go floating down empty streets.
Curtains roll into living rooms,where the afternoon
is trying to find a sunny spot and lie down like a cat.
In this dream like state,where time takes on a sort of elasticity,
we calmly wait,

Read the entire article in the November issue of InD'Tale magazine.

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