Ancient Language

December 20, 2010 § Leave a comment

Alder

Sunlight briefly caught between the squalls, reveals a message long gone unread. I could never see this in the spring or summer when so many leaves crowd the branches and twigs and shadow tree trunks with vague shapes. Not really letters. Today the airiness of winter shines through and writes a script of dreaming. Somewhere a Grizzly murmurs in her sleep.

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