The gentle breeze blew in Shakuhachi harmony soothing my nerves.
Dolce con Dolore as dusk slowly creeps among the leaves of the trees in a dirge melody.
From a distance he leisurely walks with his gunny sack in hand.
Alas , it is time to abscond.
We gazed Pisosecond that it almost felt like Sempiternal.
Lickety-split the forest turns her hue from Clair de lune , Midnight blue to Brunswick black.
Sotto Voce I uttered a Kaddish Prayer while the night whispered an elegy.