Yellow rail

movement flows

under harebell leaves

a tiny rarity

pops out at the end

of the overgrown foliage

feathers dressed in

a young fawn's fur

with the sharpest

brightest yellow beak

carried on oversized

clawed feet to easily

grasp any tedious spot

it finds in a marshy home

it pauses with a smirk

to nod an acknowledgment

of the happiness

right around the corner

Lune en scorpion

the scorpion dances

in the midnight sky

holding her glowing

face in its sharp tail

glowing petals fall

from her pale hand

shining scattered in

the celestial bowl

the scorpion holds

within its sharp claws

the fire of the future

burning in its grasp

fleur flames lay down

a path for the lovers

while grains of stars

make a bed for the sage