The moon faced leaf dancing happened quietly to some inner music. An August stray.
I left her thin and ragged, un"glue"-ing her at the bottom, at one point, to add a little bit of fringe for continuing. She moves through season with grace and heart. Resting here on some woven sanity.
I sent her as a gift, to rescue someone else. She is thin, raw, a map of going. Holding that.
I can't stitch right now. I'll take inventory.