
After long absence I return
to this terrace
Softness drips from last night’s rain
Birdsong rises from cedars and red maples
Wind sings praise to the floating world
I sit again among fat brown spiders
Still afraid
but it is they who knew me first
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We linger here
holding on
to some unnamable presence
these rooms
these walls
the elusive slips of light entering
from windows
framing tall trees
silent open skies.
These lands hold us
fixed in final sacred moments.
We whose quiet chapter ends
here.
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At first she embraces
melancholy
but as she packs
treasures away
Walls become just
walls and Place
shifts definition.
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Pencil on paper. Images arise. Message received.