"those days"
- 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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