sun rise and heathen a tapestry of sheens across waters and reliefs where lay this soul pine

glorious and staved leaves are pushed upwind of the smell broomsticks and cobble pots a dank autumn on leave travels to the eye scape over wind meres and wonders I walk to the ones tapping tones over stones the patterns of boots til the snows are dirty with soylency fur cased and callous cracked to the whether of rights gone wrong sighs to the wind over valley I stand under sky line and dreams wanting for the muscle red and in chested which beats a born bruise