My boy, My boy
Many names you had.
Many forms you did take.
One soul.
Innocent.
My companion.
My friend.
But not mine to keep.
I will see you again in my dreams.
Goodbye Bodie.
A reading of the piece (AI-generated, interpretive): A threshold between visible and invisible worlds, where wind-driven snow dissolves the boundary between land and sky into a field of pure atmosphere. The blurred rocks emerge like half-remembered forms, suggesting the way grief renders the familiar world suddenly foreign, a landscape standing in for the liminal space between waking and dream, presence and loss.