WEBVTT

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This is called "And Swept
All Visible Signs Away."

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Easy enough to
say it's dark now.

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But what is the willow
doing in the darkness?

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I say it wants less for company
than for compassion, which can

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come from afar and faceless.

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What's a face to a willow?

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If a willow had a face, it
would be a song, I think.

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I am stirred.

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I'm stirrable.

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I'm a wind-stir thing,
the song would go.

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But there is no song
as there is no face.

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There's just the
willow as willow.

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Nothing about itself, its shadow
meaningless except to those

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who want for shade
and find it there.

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Who keep finding they
hardly care anymore.

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Almost some days as if they'd
never cared about connection.

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Green as water, the
willow's motion.

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Green as oblivion, the
willow's indifference.

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Flecked with a little
gold, some blue.

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