The moon has awoken, With the sleep of the sun. The light has been broken, The spell has begun.
Photography by shadowphoto

blake kathryn
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
Jules of Nature
Peter Solarz

if i look back, i am lost
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH

Product Placement
Cosmic Funnies
d e v o n
No title available

titsay
One Nice Bug Per Day
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
Acquired Stardust

Kaledo Art
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
No title available
Keni
occasionally subtle
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
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@shadowphoto
The moon has awoken, With the sleep of the sun. The light has been broken, The spell has begun.
Photography by shadowphoto
The wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees. The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas. The road was a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor, And the highwayman came riding— Riding—riding— The highwayman came riding, up to the old inn-door.
-- Alfred Noyes
Photography by shadowphoto
"(on animal rights) The question is not, can they reason? nor, can they talk? but, can they suffer?" -- Jeremy Bentham
Time Transfixed, Royal Caribbean, undated.
Photography by shadowphoto
Daylight and Moonlight
In broad daylight, and at noon, Yesterday I saw the moon Sailing high, but faint and white, As a school-boy's paper kite.
In broad daylight, yesterday, I read a Poet's mystic lay; And it seemed to me at most As a phantom, or a ghost.
But at length the feverish day Like a passion died away, And the night, serene and still, Fell on village, vale, and hill.
Then the moon, in all her pride, Like a spirit glorified, Filled and overflowed the night With revelations of her light.
And the Poet's song again Passed like music through my brain; Night interpreted to me All its grace and mystery.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Photography by shadowphoto
Time Tunnel, undated.
Photography by shadowphoto
Leaves of Grass, undated.
Photography by shadowphoto
Ode to Walt Whitman, undated.
I heard you, solemn-sweet pipes of the organ, as last Sunday morn I pass'd the church; Winds of autumn!—as I walk'd the woods at dusk, I heard your long-stretch'd sighs, up above, so mournful; I heard the perfect Italian tenor, singing at the opera—I heard the soprano in the midst of the quartet singing; …Heart of my love!—you too I heard, murmuring low, through one of the wrists around my head; Heard the pulse of you, when all was still, ringing little bells last night under my ear.
-- Walt Whitman
Photography by shadowphoto
Untitled, International Crane Foundation, Baraboo, Wisconsin, undated.
Photography by shadowphoto
Dusk, undated.
The day was falling, and the darkening air Released earth's creatures from their toils, while I, I only, faced the bitter road and bare My Master led. I only, must defy The powers of pity, and the night to be.
So thought I, but the things I came to see, Which memory holds, could never thought forecast.
O Muses high! O Genius, first and last! Memories intense! Your utmost powers combine To meet this need. For never theme as mine Strained vainly, where your loftiest nobleness Must fail to be sufficient.
-- Dante Alighieri, Inferno, Canto II
Photography by shadowphoto
Please visit an animal shelter; someone wants to go home with you!
Is This a Dagger Which I See Before Me?, undated.
Photography by shadowphoto
Untitled, undated.
Photography by shadowphoto
The weary sun hath made a golden set And by the bright tract of his fiery car Gives token of a goodly day to-morrow.
--William Shakespeare
Ghost, undated.
Photography by shadowphoto
Untitled, undated.
Photography by shadowphoto
Dream, Chicago, undated.
Photography by shadowphoto