A Mid-Winter's Night's Dream

The willow shook its dreads from its face while it spoke. “The maples are touchy this time of year.” From the brook the willow was cooling its roots in a man stepped out and brushed diamonds off his jacket. “It’s true, they’re worse than the chipmunks.” Tearing his sleeves off he flapped them and at once black feathers sprouted and he took off through the watery sky. Sidling up next to the willow a tulip reclined against the cliff face and dipped his roots in the water. “Peculiar weather we’re having.” He said as a cloud fell from the sky.

A/N: I could come to love this drabble form. Anyone else have really, really weird dreams? Just me. Okay.