A few more images from the newly found Moleskine Sketchbook.
Just one withering look, a full reverse sweep; toe to top, side to side. His unsteady soul had nowhere to find cover. Some of us are born with big yellow beaks then dropped into the lap of the Gods. (how many Gods share the one lap) It's out of our hands. It's lonely. You're only half way to paradise, a gentle shove will take you the rest of the way.
It's the sound of night dreams and day horses, of dog boys and birds that keep the secrets of all creation that I hear and fear.
Mum said; "Peter's got murderous eyes." Within nine months there was no happiness allowed in that house again.