I dwell in possibilities... a fairer house than prose.
Twin loaves of bread have just been born into the world under my auspices. Fine children, the image of their mother. And here, my dear friend, is the glory.
The Things that never can come back, are several - Childhood - some forms of Hope - the Dead.
Nature is what we see - the hill, the afternoon, squirrel, eclipse, the bumblebee. Nay, nature is heaven. Nature is what we hear...
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