The god wears a crown, so that passersby may think he’s a king. He’s waiting, trident poised, is he fishing? From the little bridge we observe him. The park is calm, silent, visitors are few. But we know: this is a magical spot, full of secrets. We never miss a chance to come here, when we are in town. For we have a long history here, we came here first long ago, when mankind was still plentiful. Now we rarely meet anyone in this part of town, only ghosts, like us.
Gratitude to KL Caley for carrying the tradition of Writephoto, and heartfelt thoughts for our friend Sue Vincent.