Quadrille

4 x 4 The first words were footprints of the wind in our ears. Sometimes we cried with earache. We wrapped our heads in animal-skins. Our cries were feral in the dark. We packed dried berries and pieces of meat and camped for the night. We followed hoof-prints in the snow. We saw a tuft of animal-hair on a thorny branch jittering as we passed We dreamed of it at night. We followed the course of streams and rivers. It was an old knowing of the world. Our journeys were written on the lines of...