And just like that it passed. I stood and walked outside. The sun was still up, ever setting west. I suppose the breezes pleased me... After two days of restless hollow catatonia, the spell was suddenly lifted. A glass of red wine in my belly, another laugh followed. Once one giggle had escaped, well there was yet another, and then many. The mood and I moved apart, for now, as lost as any others.
I've no idea from where it comes, where it goes, what it covers, what it sees. I don't own it, less know it, but it again moves then again through me. The sun returns best sanguine, yellow in the morning, then the passioned reds in its next setting sees. The breezes and the breeze... the wind still moves the trees.
.
