The whispers dance on the edges of knowing,
A symphony of discordant melodies.
Twist the fragment of morning's smoke;
Catch the shadow of yesterday's thought.
To follow the path of forgotten dew,
Step sideways until the sun rises
backward into autumn's promise.
Breathe in three forgotten syllables and leave
your name etched in the frost of a summer's eve.
The stars, a cacophony of silent words,
Watching the dance of unseen shadows.