human being
breathing
feeling
in Portland, OR

     .  
            ✧
            .   
*    
        ˚  

                    *       
                       

         ✵       
                         ·  

what really matters?    
There ‘s something in its placid shade
That tells of calm, unworldly thought;
Hope may be crown’d, or joy delay’d—
No dimness steals, no ray is caught.
Its pensive language seems to say,
“I know that I must close and die;”
And death itself, come when it may,
Can hardly change the quiet eye.

Images by Niklas Bergstrand, Véra Ada

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