“But the Kitten, how she starts, crouches, stretches, paws, and darts!” – William Wordsworth

Its true, I’ll do a haiku for you. Its meaning hidden, its form quite fitting, a riddle if you will. The brief chance a haiku grants to do justice to an image. Take a guess if you dare, its only fair, now just beware the metaphor you fulfill.

Crisp, curled, white paper;

burnt edges, singed cross, sagging boughs…

heavy scent enfolds stars.