Underground

Who are you after you finish something this magnificent — in constructing it you have also journeyed through it, to the other side. On one end there was who you were before you went underground, and on the other end a new person steps out into the light. The up-top world must be so ordinary compared to the miracle beneath, the miracle you made with your sweat and blood. The secret triumph you keep in your heart.

Colson Whitehead, The Underground Railroad

 


Underground
Transportation Series
ShotByNess.
© 2019 RiverHouse Group of Caughdenoy, new YorK, LLC

Sitting on the Porch with Roger and Winnie

There is little that is more satisfying than a newspaper. Or a dog. Except a dog that feigns interest in the newspaper. That, my friends, is evidence of God.
– ShotByNess.

Sitting on the porch with Roger and Winnie
Animals Series
ShotByNess.
© 2019 RiverHouse Group of Caughdenoy, new YorK, LLC

Saturdays Ago

A time set aside for comfort,
fleece and oats and Woolrich.
But spent watching as koi splashed in latex skin,
struggling to prove that they are koi.

A time set aside for small things moving quickly,
in the glow of the television.
But spent asking, begging, demanding a future that
is not ours. Ours is written.

it
is
right
there.

A time set aside to build a memory that will never leave
but
may be evicted.

– ShotByNess.


Saturdays Ago
Infrastructure Series
ShotByNess.
© 2019 RiverHouse Group of Caughdenoy, new YorK, LLC

Alone

From childhood’s hour I have not been
As others were—I have not seen
As others saw—I could not bring
My passions from a common spring—
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow—I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone—
And all I lov’d—I lov’d alone—
Then—in my childhood—in the dawn
Of a most stormy life—was drawn
From ev’ry depth of good and ill
The mystery which binds me still—
From the torrent, or the fountain—
From the red cliff of the mountain—
From the sun that ’round me roll’d
In its autumn tint of gold—
From the lightning in the sky
As it pass’d me flying by—
From the thunder, and the storm—
And the cloud that took the form
(When the rest of Heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view—

Edgar Allan Poe


Alone
Relationships Series
ShotByNess.
© 2019 RiverHouse Group of Caughdenoy, new YorK, LLC