How odd it was that 1st time,
seeing them, the women, left of the meadow.

Rather like a vast cardioid it was, upon the plain. And in the very field of the plane of Euclidian minds where forces of many colors outdistance dynamics of winds.
      I came upon them thus.

It was like finding as 1 wandered uncertain of pilgrimage or displacement that 1 had been on the board all the time and more, had created it and was creating it ever, and there were in the steps, the trailing whispers of garments, the significant outline of some purpose.
      1 was, after all, the penchant and the paradigm of this figure life does etch in space and with the others did fashion the changing and enveloping, the clasping and divining, form.