Parallel veins on the palm leaf stand out, etched in mad hues of green crayon by THE master artist; what does it take to see, for long I had eyes but did not.
So filigree like; hinting at the shadows and shapes beneath the surface:
In that sweet mood when pleasant thoughts
Bring sad thoughts to the mind.
-Wordsworth, from Lines written in early spring.
With shock I watch the reigning king of the marquee walk by, dark, wiry and unimpressive. Its all the director’s doing, all glam sham I realize- the emperor has no clothes! Under the harsh lights they’re practicing a mass drill type of dance step in a purported state room- no envy, not for anything in the world. Not this.