Doorways, arches, and gates.
Magic.
My repetitions are a fact.
Tree roots gnarl like the five fingers of one hand.
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.
How can you feel on stage in a clearing alone?
Prowling.
Stalking words on stilts over creeks.
Let us fly our kites here.
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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WrittenCasey 
Beautiful
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Thank you, kindly.
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