April 11th 2016

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mists
····beyond the field’s edge—even the crows
········vanish
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Today was overcast; a dark that creeps like a sorrow and loneliness into the heart. The trees are so far unmoved by April—their limbs like cracks in an opaque glass. If I go beyond the field’s edge, I wonder if I too will vanish.
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157 April 11th 2016 | bottlecap