We love ruins

But in case I ever flee this place,

I’ll leave the beauty for you.

In the bright view which grew outcast,

In its ruins, in its malicious past;

Neither did I shape her

With my old rotting thenar,

Nor will I ever own its grace.

For the lake is a long way from here -

And for bears, winter is one night.

 

~Prat.

 

 

an angle of the place