• Vol. 03
  • Chapter 08
Image by


I am a background in my own world
My mousy hair
To become the rough hay
In which common field mice frolic
Far happier than I shall ever be

I am ruddy and reticent
In the mundane of my surroundings
I wait with eyes that peer but do not pierce
Lips pursed but not patient
Mind plain but not peaceful

I tip my hat’s hem
At a tree silhouettic in the shadows
Of another life
And undetermined