Marko Rosic
36 years ago, my parents went to Greece on their honeymoon. Atoms of Grecian sunlight lightened my mother’s hair. Suggestions of a Grecian breeze blew it out of place, if that is in fact what you call the perfection of disarray. Perhaps my father had the urge to push some of it behind her ear. My sister, born in the year that followed, might owe a certain classical poise to those first exquisite days of love. I, on the other hand, have only words to keep me warm on this January day in the north.
Sunlight, breeze, hair, love.
Blog photograph copyrighted to the photographer and used with permission by utata.org. All photographs used on utata.org are stored on flickr.com and are obtained via the flickr API. Text is copyrighted to the author, meerasethi and is used with permission by utata.org. Please see Show and Share Your Work
