On the knees of her father, and from the eyes of her mother, she viewed from the far up window, laid up in the throughs of her grandmother's bedside, a grid.
Through all the tiny circles of the metal headboard, she met another pattern. One of millions of tiny squares. And since she met neither on their own, she saw them both. And was met with a field of hexagons.
And when she looked away she saw both. And they were both real.
But to see out and view the green. She could only see what was not truly there.
-N.B, 5-24-19
