All the images have their charm, but the last of the series in faded tones comes close to my twisted idea of chaotic beauty revealing an interior full of noise and fear. I look at an eye in the center and the eye looks at me. Inside and out, time flies the dreamy colors with the speed of a blink of an eye.

And so, alas, the pollen-days
quick overtake the sullen corse
of winter's melancholy ways
a youthful second long.