Impressions by Lance Glover upon listening to 'thumbprint' by tim nelson:

"walking in woods a dark alley late night train depot riding subway car reflections in the window sleeping passengers following a broken path through dense trees rain on cobblestones streetlight reflecting ripples cold wind the river, headlights piercing the horizon fog rolls across treetops searching the lone outpost the rain, distant thunder lighthouse beacon calling "stay away, stay away" this was where you met, the old bridge, fog rolling in through autumn leaves sitting in the dark house turning pages in a book of mirrors every page more blank and paler than the one before, a dusty reflection tilted on the bureau with cigarettes and a newspaper cold morning afternoon shadows growing longer over the lawn, you found the quaint museum in the countryside, fell in love for an hour, midnight pale moon shining across the top of a fence, rows of grapevine in the moonlight dimly aligning and falling away briars and an old bicycle leaned against the gate fumbling with the key, the train, looking again and again at the pictures which aren't there, on the moors a bird calling in the night horses silently gallop across waves rolling in an endless gyre toward the inky distance salt crusting on the rails a reflection in the grey window ice forming along your fingertips, gazing down the dark well lights flickering a smoky arabesque, moments arranging and disappearing before your eyes grasping they slip away, retreat into the shadows at the edge of your field of vision blur the moment of freedom and loss you will never arrive and continue to arrive, following the path through the dark woods the alley the passengers dreaming on the bridge, the fountain, a cobblestone street in the rain the afternoon shadows whorl in autumn the leaves falling forever into the darkness your silhouette old soul the empty sky"