So sits it in the darker settlements;
In the glade,
In the long grass,
My whimsy hides, or is hidden.
With the turning trees still visible,
And the near waters just audible,
I remain graspy-greedy,
And long for lightheartedness
Of sunlight,
Of those connection warms.
And so, with steps imperceptible,
Leaving muddled footprints,
I walk on...
Jan 10, 2011
Jan 10, 2011 at 1:54 PM UTC
So sits it in the darker settlements;
In the glade,
In the long grass,
My whimsy hides, or is hidden.
With the turning trees still visible,
And the near waters just audible,
I remain graspy-greedy,
And long for lightheartedness
Of sunlight,
Of those connection warms.
And so, with steps imperceptible,
Leaving muddled footprints,
I walk on...
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