Tunnel

I missed that winter wood, So I walked. What I found in solitude– Those trickles, tinkles, pebbles, piñons. Pining for a sentiment of despair. The winter wood has a hold. Lull.  Interlude. Pause. The light at the end of the dark. I have felt this despair– A seasonal death.                        A fluctuating intermission. I stepped […]

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