There is beauty
and there is decay,
they are gardeners of the same plot,
seeking sustenance from the same sun,
shade from the same soil,
one awaits the wonder of the weather,
the other;
weathered by her ticking thunder.

There is beauty
and there is decay,
they are inseparable,
one holding fast to its height,
the other;
falling fast through its fragility

and in between
their entanglements
is left life
until that, one day, leaves.

All words and photography by Damien B. Donnelly