 |
| Trees are poised and still tonight,
barely moonlit silhouettes that reach to graze the edge of mystery drifting in a silent vapor. Raw voiced crows defend their ancient time and space, jagged sounds asserting boundary even to the gods that roam dark streets on gentle mist above the sacred circles of their raucous flight. Unbearably fragile, night awaits the breaking of the light. |
| *image: Matt Martiniuk |