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Pockets and Nests
The northern cold and snow arrived late this year. Huddled against the wind we walk icy paths to the hilltop. A clear view of the cloud-skewed sky. Pockets of white, grey, and rare blue. Various footprints scattered from trees to grasses. We stop briefly to admire the apparent stillness when only the wind is heard,…
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Poem – Morning purple sky
Morning purple sky becomes a thick icy fog consuming the landscape until the only path, the only way forward is through the white veil with eyes closed and the future in my hands.