Clouds cling – fast.
‘Midst the dawn’s chill, she watched the night-time passing westward as she felt the tide of heat fall on her bare skin.
Wait for words…
A leaf; a fountain; a cat; fruit.
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…