visia

Walking through a forest, mere notia of paths, roots growing all over,

She watches blue sky, not totally visible, orange leaves' falling obscuring it,

At one moment, her steps confident and sure; another, cautious and quiet, no trips, nor ivy, nor thorns—

Her vision gives way to visia; confident forward; uncertain downward; pained backward,

The trunks fading into the atmosphere, hiding horizon;

And she finds herselves back where she started.

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