On the way home, I cross the wilderness and see two great trees at the edge of the horizon.
Their wild branches spear the sky, bringing to mind the spruces by the water, the gray-white night sky, and the endless dance that begins with a single leap.
Note: An imaginary system and setting, written on a whim. Read at your own discretion!
Theme: Beauty may be a bubble, or it may be a tide.
