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Adaptation

The grass is no longer strictly green morning dew has turned to frost it crunches in shades of yellow when over it I walk. The sky is clouded, over bearing covering what was recalled as springtime sun, and blue bonnets fully in charge of the hill. Nothing in this season has been truly lost, the cost of course is patience and belief that new will happen again.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2013




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Date: 11/29/2013 10:27:00 AM
beautifully penned vision
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Book: Shattered Sighs