The jigsaw shadows and dusk-greyed wood ruins of stories and ghosts horses and widows whispers of sorrows. I sit like one of them, these phantoms in timeless disconnect a misplaced picnicker in a rotting barn. Pearl against ivory against quilt against dirt my outline quivers and wavers like a memory my expression constant and tranquil as a photograph. Captive of beauty and descent I disappear into the echoing gallops and wails leaving the statue on the blanket tiptoeing, then running, then leaping away avoiding her fixed gaze and marble arm I follow the puzzle pieces, I dodge the gaps, I fight vines I wonder and wander until I find myself again at her feet paying homage with berries I have gathered and flowers in my dirty hair.
