More (Echoes)
A bleu jay muses on white snow how swiftly the mirror swivels inward how silently of a moment they are gone.. shall we danse once again? (t.poet) Dear One, I am gazing the wintr'y held jay and thinking he is a speck of summery sky reborn... Let us danse upon the morn and through travels of our tyme:... Sign in to see full entry.