I know what it's like to wake up and embrace the painful daylight in the woods where the palsied flowers go when they are lifeless, buried rings and bracelets, small stolen treasures and sobering gems. A group of birds in the brick-red pine needles looks like a nun leading schoolchildren to the chapel, a fallen tree that is rotten and slimy, it looks like a giants' broken and decayed leg bone, my rainy park and secret grove, I am alive but I do not breathe, I know what it feels like to feel unsympathetic rain on my face in a crestfallen forest in the outer dark.