Two little girls run against the currents of a gushing wind, that hurls itself across the hills and valleys, scoring tracks in the long meadow grass.
Eye's filled with wonder and expectation glance up at a sky worn to cloudy rags with the day's cares and traces of tears that can't be explained.
The glinting of light through naked branches and skeleton leaves.
Bleaches out the damp bruises of ruminating clouds.
The dreams of children reach beyond a gaze in the distance.
And turn to charcoal in it's cool fire.
A song without words