These We'Ll Yet Destroy

Two owls charmed me moments before I embarked on the hours of industry to come. Their silhouettes were dark and secretive, their voices wistful and low. I had a moment only to be soothed with no thought to the truer meaning, sinister and cruel, of their flight from industry to come. Mere yards from where I sleep the tree has grown large much like its older cousin mere yards from where I brood. The loeries return to a place that may once have been theirs, and they speak with voices almost as those of children. They charm me as the owls. In the small fertile garden among acres of mortar and stone and grass largely ignored, I may see with fortune the frog that enchants me, the spider that does not much haunt me, the serpent that surely does. The Indian myna, relentless, imperious, will not be denied. The idiosyncrasies, kind and mean, gave them form and breath and motion, and domain, before our domain. 26th July 2018