Mimpelpees
Would trees and animals find it annoying if I compared myself to them? They are so old and magical. Actually, I'll never be like a blue tit, and I'll never be able to fly like that.
Her wings shield little spots, the light too weak to break through. Feathers reflect light back, to the village of once, with ditches of yesterday. Eyes open for the fish, lucky to see a sardine. Josefien and I stand on the bank of time, thinking back to once. When we swam in the canal, a stacked sky. The stars, the herons, and us.
