Soft gold’s revel in shades of greys and greens of pasts long ago and those now catching upon soils of damp remembrances dancing along drifting waves and curling thunders as each tree sways down paths and over mountains out into blue swept skies laced with clouding rims of whites resembling floss and buds of roses in May caught in drafts both ups and downs streams long hair, aprons and gowns whilst the flutter of wings calm them along melodious song and chirpings call.
Her face stems from the boughs great hold and shadowing stony grounds covered in winter grasses caught in drafts of old Rooted leaves sweep lost roads building their cavernous spaces un yonder places dwelt in stone and rock Swallowed and regurgitated hollows Ring their silent speaking so all may reckon its wake like footprints in snow.
