Together

They are standing together

Close enough to hear each others breathing.

Their hands are clasped.

Fingers intertwined

Like the branches of loondi trees that have grown too close together

and need to be seperated.

Their bare feet warm the grass.

Soft toes float like pebbles in a stream

Tied down not by anchored plants

But by heat floating off of their bodies.

The warm starlight gleams yellow across their faces

Echoed by the rivers of constellations in their eyes.

They look far out

Eyes scanning the mountains below

With their flitting purple birds diving low above the deep red grass

To smell tall yellow flowers growing blue in the late season.

Sounds ring out all around them

From the gentle burble of streams

and the tender bending of gleaming leaves to the gentle breeze.

Their masks soft whirr humming like the wings of the smallest insects

The ones that are barely larger thair their palms.

They turn to each other now, smiling from ear to ear,

And a tinkling sound fills the air like a sound long forgotten.

They are so alone here

The only things to have walked upright on these mountains

For a long while.

Indeed,

It has been a long time

since everyone left.