Solidity

On a misty evening, one is tempted to measure the trees in the forest not by distance but by notions of solidity.

The distant tree is pale, but it is no less solid than the bark I feel under my fingertips – and all the wishful thinking in the world won’t transform the owls into angels.

ankle deep in mud
my phantom foot
feels fire

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Carpe Diem

Beyond Control
.

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6 thoughts on “Solidity”

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