Lena
hope is the thing with feathers
that perches in the soul
that perches in the soul
If Lena was the snowball throwing, vehement type, then perhaps she’d test out those very notions. But she wasn’t – made of kindness and benedictions, compassion and tenderness, and to have a companion on the opposite sides of the spectrum was sometimes daunting, overwhelming, and led to more apologies than she’d ever uttered in her life.
So she bypassed those semblances, for she didn’t want any course of those thoughts to flicker across the bond, gently pushing aside another low branch, making sure it didn’t snap back behind her. “Oh. All right.” Given no other information, the Caretaker shrugged, ensuring her grip was still on Mittens, as they followed the wayward, scattered path.
Opening up to the shrine she’d been intending to honor and bestow, had the attempts not been interrupted or waylaid by a brazen snowball. “Here we are.”
So she bypassed those semblances, for she didn’t want any course of those thoughts to flicker across the bond, gently pushing aside another low branch, making sure it didn’t snap back behind her. “Oh. All right.” Given no other information, the Caretaker shrugged, ensuring her grip was still on Mittens, as they followed the wayward, scattered path.
Opening up to the shrine she’d been intending to honor and bestow, had the attempts not been interrupted or waylaid by a brazen snowball. “Here we are.”
and sings the tune without the words
and never stops at all
and never stops at all
