XXI
The trees are dancing...

XVI
Seeing what's below...

My heart sill belongs to you
Even if you choose not to take it...

VI
The cold fog has dropped...

It was created upon being born a holy gift
To every Mothered, fathered and brothered...

I
Again the leaves fall...

Seems like not long ago
Seems as there's little time...

That not I am to sit and watch
That already...

So cold
So lonely...