A poised figure stands nearby, quietly.
The door creaks, pressure building.
Maple stands solid, the latch well-held
Until the moment rises for release…
Bursting forth:
Wind, wild wings, brilliance of a golden sunrise,
Billowed silk, a wash of heat, the thrush-throat sound of pipes.

All these blow by the standing silhouette,
Tousle curls, vanish into the twilit sky.
Peace descends.
The night birds resume their songs.
In the gloaming, a door waits, open.
A poised figure stands nearby, quietly.