When a sliver of sun barely peeks from behind the wall of the forest, mist gathers thick over the fields and every sound falls away. Only in the tangle of willow branches something stirs and watches the surroundings, and at times, from the rough hollow where an old cavity reaches into the abyss, a near-human figure rises into sight.
Sometimes in dreams such presences come to me and look at me with black eyes, from which the glimmer of stars shines through.
ONEIRIC ANAMNESIS 