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"those days"

  • Writer: and the moon speaks again
    and the moon speaks again
  • Aug 11, 2021
  • 1 min read

We rest under willow trees

and chase dragonflies around

the dim and shallow pond


and yet somehow

our hearts have been carved

so a hole rests in them,


a searing pain

like nothing else


until we find

something


to fill the emptiness-


through thunder and rainfall

and blinding sun,


through those days

we pushed through

as if the sky would fall.


 
 
 

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