"Perch. Sliced between busy and languid,
between the overwrought and the underdone,
there is a branch asking to be your perch.
Place yourself alight in the world, drink in the colors, the fragrances, the gentle speech of nature,
and listen to the barely perceptible hum of lace leafed flyers.
It is a lost language that slips down through the in between."
-Kate Colby Nelson