Probably the most romantic, in every
sense of the word, scene I have ever
looked upon.
Dense, grey mist gives way to
reveal a mountain (by English
standards. In Germany, it is probably
a hill.) Up from the firs rises a
lonely, stone ruin; An archade
wearing a cross
Watches a churning river, a small
red tiled town
And the traveler who mistakenly
sits in 1st class, watching and dreaming.
1 comment:
beautiful.
last year's new year's was better. *sigh* oregon misses you.
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