Listening.
Remembering aged forestshine
Rainstrewn patterns
Wet leaves caressing the ground

Treading northnight.

Walking paths, learning the craft of wordless validity,
through the moon’s vividly painted forest-shadows
over this sweet silence and wilted leaf soil

Remaining. Now in a dawn without words.

Standing beside the edge of the woods as a secret,
as tired, failed and forgotten glimmered lumber
where sorrows always are in a temporary frozen

Remaining anyway. Stuck.

I am forlorn-embraced,
all too roughly ripped from this tearing uncertainty
unbeknownst my frail wild-strawberry time returned
and placed itself furthest away from un-necessity

Freedom?

Lingered on here under these lovingly sailing clouds
while these charming wild-strawberry in the green
stood helplessly faired in appeal after forgetfulness

NAUD

Cure: Life and Death.