PhotographyAnne-Marie Littenberg

Memory and Desire, Stirring

Winter kept us warm, covering Earth in forgetful snow

In the mountains,
there you feel free.

 

 

What are the roots that clutch, what branches grow

 

And the dead trees give no shelter

 

I will show you fear in a handful of dust

 

Looking into the heart of light, the silence

 

Unreal city, under the brown fog of a winter dawn

 

 

 

HURRY UP PLEASE ITS TIME

 

Inexplicable splendor

 

The road winding above among the mountains

 

Quotes from “The Waste Land” (1922) by T.S. Elliot (1888-1965)

 

 

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