There is a pattern, I see and fear, nine remains the significant year. The darkness and early morning storm suddenly gave way. In the abrupt stillness, the symetry is overwhelming. Age It was only a sidestep into my parallel universe. This part is so simple.
Last light becomes a bank of drifting hills in middle atmosphere.
The clouds have no mass, appearing solid, yet indistinct and shifting. Other lives are a network of lights far below. Square Knot Family ties are knotted with form following function. Sometimes, the bowline, the lifeline, cinches in my sinking spirit. Other times, the slip knot breaks me free from family ways that I am not.