Plethyn

I
   we
      you

They

Blue
   complex
      stoic

Bemused

plethyn,
our shards of life,
wrapped,
fused in sparse permutation.

Shoes matter here,
best you be barefoot
than groped amidst the ivy.

Spirits drift
from beneath the buttered sides,
dust bunnies klatch
slippery,
snarky winks as the light falls out,
doors mutter shut,
snake oil gathers
to slather from tongues.

I
   we
      you

They

At rest
   gloves
      bonded

Moot

(Plethyn is the Welsh word for bonded)