Winter breeze is pleasant ,the sun still behind clouds. A blue shack in the ground comes to view . A closer view may yield a rich picture celebrating mono -color.
Early on ,a bored bard ,bare-headed and bearded , came to poetry from the vintage pages of memory . That time of year. Thou mayst in me behold…. Dust would come later in the end-line.
We always eat dust in the end-line.