
This is a tale told in twigs dropped by crows along a wildwood path . . .
This is a story told in ripples and eddies deep below old hills . . .

This is a tale told in fallen almond blossom on a salt-and-sweet river . . . Continue reading
This is a story spelled out in crow-dropped twigs along a path winding into a forest . . . Continue reading
This is a tale told in the shapes of licking flames, in whorls of smoke coiling in a stove . . .

This is a story written in fallen sequins and scraps of dyed plumage on a sawdust floor . . .
This is a tale told in the clawprints of a crow hopping on fresh morning snow . . . Continue reading
This is a tale told in lichen-rusted cracks on a lone moorland stone . . . Continue reading

This is a tale told by splashes dripping from stone fingers and echoes from a deep well . . .