Eddied pools of meaning.
The wind weaves.
Upon a time, once, long ago, in a place that I know not, a hooded child (in a crimson coat) through forest paths did trot…
In nature’s nightless, new-born form I met the mossy fern.
I sketch the grass.
Paddling swan in feathers.
In white/In black…
The countenance above: with fury laden.
Of ink; of thought.
Lazy were his steps; listless was his mind.
The earth; the moon.