... in ancient woodland.

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I feel safe here
It is the bluebell wood I ran through
With my father.

The boy at school
Who passed me a note beneath the
Wooden desk.

I am happy here.
It is the fresh posy of fuschias
I take to grandad’s house.

It is my father.
It is the journey to the graveyard
To visit his parents.





◄ the middle dot indicated part of a complete thought

Brausebad. ►


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Sat 27th Apr 2019 23:44

I love this. Inspiring.

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Cynthia Buell Thomas

Wed 30th Jul 2014 10:57

Heartbreakingly simple - and deep. It captures the freedom of childhood and the continuity of family and homeland. Smashed with reality. The picture is ingenious, but really awful. As could be said about all wars.

The title is brilliant.

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Charlie Preston

Fri 5th Apr 2013 14:17

I concur.

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Dave Bradley

Tue 30th Oct 2012 07:52

Hi Mikhail

I like this a lot. Somehow the simplicity of the lines creates a vividness and a world springs to mind in the imagination. I also like your others and can't understand why you're not getting more comments. Do keep plugging away.

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