Wapun Meadow can you still smile, into my daugher's eyes?
i will pry his bony fingers free
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the storm that had battered the valley days prior had left the slopes doused in thick snow, and the trees that studded the gentle valley were still cloaked by endless white. occasionally a bough groaned and shifted the weight of its burden downwards, and the snow would fall with a soft thud that shook the forest. indra had picked her way past the meadow and into the fringe, trailing the bright chatter of winter birds. all around the sorrel wolf the temperate clime had settled in a layer of snowmelt, and soft drops of water trickled down the damp trees to dapple the forest ground.
now the wren has gone to roost and the sky is turning gold,
and like the sky, my soul is also turning.
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can you still smile, into my daugher's eyes? - by Indra - March 13, 2018, 11:48 PM