Disposition Reflection

Doorways, arches, and gates.

Magic.

My repetitions are a fact.

Tree roots gnarl like the five fingers of one hand.

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Wisps of ether become yours in the visible spectrum.

Everyday.

Plain

Magic.

It is in our air.

Scandalous fleshed exposure of a barely leafed tree.

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How can you feel on stage in a clearing alone?

Prowling.
Stalking words on stilts over creeks.

 

Let us fly our kites here.

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My stone panther re-enlivens from winter as a summer moss.

Humid and heavy on the trees.

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Author: writtencasey

I am fascinated by the scientific endeavor and I read about or engage with those processes as much as possible. I am a compulsive reader and writer. With a background in anthropology and as an arm-chair/backyard scientist, I hope to improve my writing skills and learn about any areas of weakness or misunderstanding in my analytic skills. I am excited to share. Thank you for spending time here. Please reach out if you are so inclined. I'd be excited to hear from you.

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