My thoughts are still stuck inside a silent head. Without adding any depth or insight, I am going to sit here and at least tell you what I see while my writing voice hides.

In the woods...

Downhill past a vernal pool where early spring amphibians screamed, I see a zig-zagging stone wall. Time has been here too, gathering ground around the stones to hide them.

It's midnight on Saturday and rain slaps the patio and roof. I wonder about goddesses in the woods.

She is a kaleidoscope of colors. Whimsy and butterflies move her in and out of sunlight. Her hair streams and her skirts flow. She is filled with light. I look through images of forest goddesses and see young and seductive life until I find her in black and white.

A pale woman with black lips haunts the night. Eyes filled with stolen light hover inside dark shadows. Colorless cheekbones push at her skin and black strands crawl through white hair.

She seeps into shadows.

Her lips are dry and her skin is cold. Her empty hands once held spring's promise of life ready to bloom. I picture her now, waiting to smile and walking through fleeting memories of color, light, and laughter.

I don't know this goddess, and like every little person before me, I am inventing her based on nothing.