Recorded in 2018 at Un temps un lieu
Photography by aaron mcknight
Words by bailey rose

Released September 3, 2020

you step lightly, your touch light, inviting;

brush the earth just once or twice, alighting;

i never knew you, did i? a glimpse, a sight

a flash of white in the silver-dark night;

empty sky, the moon a void, waiting;

i was not lost, nor found, anticipating

liminal crest of the mountain peak’s height

as i chased your image through the silver-dark night.



i awake sprawled heavy on drifts of snow;

weak sunlight filters through my misted window;

you never knew me, did you? the smell of coffee

from the kitchen mingles with a minor key

from a mourning dove, sunrise illuminating

a flash of white that takes wing, separating

what i would have done from what i will, what i might.

the snow melts to rivers in the golden light.

Reviews

editions vaché It's difficult to describe the magic that happens during one of Nebel's pieces- We are actually trying to not 'listen directly' if you get our meaning....letting each piece walk through its own life, its own space - ss/tm/am