Nakedness isn’t guilty.
But it’s never unaware. At night
The white blossoms go on
Reflecting light they collected secretly
In broad daylight, while everything dark,
Like bark-covered branches,
Earth and tar-macadam, disappears—
Not really sulking, just absorbed
Taking everything in, in velvet.

—Kenneth Rosen, “The Tree at Night”
Photography Credit Bill Brandt

11:29 am  •  14 February 2013  •  293 notes