Mourad HARKAT
An Old Passage - Prose Mourad HARKAT
13/06/2020, 16:13
An old passage. Contemplating its arid lines. His memories of wind. Its transparent smoke shadows. And the silk of the sand. Tear off the rope from his evaporated smile like sad water. ° An old passage. Bloodless. No doubt attached to the mysterious disappearance of my dreams.
Mourad HARKAT
Public Garden in Ouled Djellal Algeria
Mourad HARKAT
Beautiful view in the way Jijel Algeria Photo/ Mourad HARKAT
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