𝄆 Kirsty Jones Sycamore buds burst tight twisted forms unfurling in timeless rhythm umbrella crowns – astounding to think they held themselves so small spreading glorious now to delight in the dancefloor crush of another sultry summer before curling into themselves to drift, decay disintegrate to soil and root and when the earth warms itself once more the sycamores sway wildly limbs outstretched stronger for all that came before. Kirsty Jones Continue Reading
