How
odd it was that 1st time,
seeing them, the women, left of the meadow.
Rather
like a vast cardioid it was, upon the plain. And
in the very field of the plane of Euclidian minds where
forces of many colors outdistance dynamics of winds.
I came upon them
thus.
It
was like finding as 1 wandered uncertain of pilgrimage or displacement
that 1 had been on the board all the time and more, had created it and
was creating it ever, and there were in the steps, the trailing whispers
of garments, the significant outline of some purpose.
1 was, after all,
the penchant and the paradigm of this figure life does etch in space and
with the others did fashion the changing and enveloping, the
clasping and divining, form.