Dusk at the Bellamy River Reservoir, Dover, NH
iPhone 5 shot
This empty heaven, it dangles beauty and bisects the cancer of a day’s death. A glass of still knifing through wood and diluting radiant gifts, it remains striking while still a copy; alluring while within reach. Sullied by approachability, value sinks as if counterfeit, but remains held aloft by settled hearts, a bounty for the average. The Gods frown at their ignorance, but spin their cerulean gold just the same, rewarding tiny hands with wet promise.