On the other side of the fence. The other-than-human one.

He sits up, like a dog Leaf-thin skin antennae listening Then - couchant - he is earth, he is log But mere matter cannot move from here...

Crone sits with Crow. Crow is not interested. Crow likes biscuits and suet pellets. Crone wants enlightenment. She believes that by...

I'm not good at painting manes, so I decided not to bother. It's still a horse, though. Sort of.