Or is it trees among the wind?
The branches that dance and sing, once, twice, then
interim.
My mind yearns for long-lost places,
my eyes full of long-lost faces that shimmer,
spangled and mangled with sorrow,
with salt,
with butterflies' fins - cleaving and flashing in the air, silver & red in despair..
but if you look closely there,
the holes left like sunshine puddled in midair - what will you find when you look inside?
Who will you find?
When you look inside, who do you find?