Day 16: Returning?

Sylvia chases a bag that is chased by wind.

I watch the same wind blow clouds in cake-like layers that move at speckled speeds. Accepting the grass beneath me, despite itself.

I have been infused.  Baby Tyler's stillness passes through skin. 

Familial, that?  The scope of it all metamorphoses into something unrecognizable.  Only time will tell.

By me, the titanic collides with an iceberg and water rushes in.