Holds the front of the building intact,
Answers the call of her mate-
Insects dancing.
Inserts a pause in her music,
Builds a road into the neck of ash-
When the time is right she walks out.
It was in the summer when green faded,
The leaves would blush heavily-
Storm is on.
Order that simply unravels.
Genius paths of intricate infinite: filigree,
The world at one time or another, lost in thought.
Backwards through the garden,
Memory’s spring
Blue in the sand.
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