WOOD SPRITES Dappling sunlight. Winding, rocky path; only Alone can I hear.
MOONLIGHT Framed by dark, plump leaves A sliver beam casts magic, Dispelling the dark.
WILD Other rules apply, Of how you live, how you die. And yet I can hear, Sounds of distress, sounds so near Drawing me towards the wood.
INSPIRATION Long walk, quiet place. With only sounds of nature, Where ideas flow.
SEPTEMBER WHOOSH! Plunk! What was that? That noise? In the trees? Listen… Falling crab apples!
THE CARDINAL Always I stop, stare That arresting deep red plume I know what is said A messenger from beyond I know not but I do hope
DUSK Music in the air, Of birds singing, chattering; The day’s last encore.
NIGHT SOUNDS Night arrives with chirps, Croaks; Snapping twigs follow lone Creatures prowling. Pounce!
AUTUMN Darkness falls gently. A smoky scent in the air. Crackling leaves burn.
RECLAIMED Eruption of blood. Dark fin, seal gone; terror in Dry, would be bathers.