Anna walks towards the path, which turns into an arbour; Just before the Arbour, a man stands alone, rubbing a leaf between his palms.
Perplexed and intrigued, she asks, “What are you doing?“
Silence follows. She repeats the words.
He looks, “I’m collecting ideas“.
“Ideas for what?“
“I write poetry…“.
“You’re a Poet! I’m a poet to-“