Brains Brains, grey matter French bread crusty crunch Chain links of a rusted metal fence Armed and ready forces Take over the conversation. An interruption, a pause A slight second of rest. She lays quietly to contemplate What staying will do Cost the Mission. Red and orange and a slight tinge Of blue Remain on her fingers As she crosses the divide Plunging into unknown territory Where are the alley cats? Will the guard dog chase? Can she keep running? A tree, tall and round Sturdy with stable logic Asks the question Would it hurt to stay? The leaves change and drop Landscape will be the same And yet not.