Deep winter light through lopped oaks' script, the river winding full between its sallow-sprung banks, peace and plenitude.
Why then, the mind's reaching out always for what will hurt it?
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Up the road or down, sometimes further afield, often not for long, we're out most days.
1 comment:
Amen. It is good to be back here with you and Mol Lucy. Your words are healing although it nevers seems as it that was the intent. It just is.
Linda
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