Old books, leaves between pages. Myrtle trees, their rings bestow stages. Silver ring on hand under trickling water. Crystal creek, the smooth stone's smiling daughter. Patient rock, peering from mountain summit far. Gum-wooded slope, fills with fog as thick as tar.
Cracked bitumen; the flood is quiet underneath. Below roads caverns yawn for carnivals bequeathed. Rabid carnival. The wheels turn ceaseless circles. Carousel mind; let it linger on crepe myrtles. Blushing petals, and simple selfless leaves between pages in the old books of wisdom weaved.