Wooden boxes
in the land of foxes...

I feel, so, so very light today
I wanna stretch my wings and fly away...

I parted the wind, concocted the phrase
bore the cold, fettered the days...

When I was young there would be fields -
the sort the kind that springtime yields...

Dreamt of white rainbows, flickering desire, in...
After midnight, hushing, the black skies above...

Head up, dears, the art is finding
art for art's sake 'mid the binding...