a return

By winterwren

the little things

i climbed over rolling hills of snow today, looking for that edge where the snow meets the clouds.  it just wasn't working.  i was about to give up when i heard crunching underfoot.  i looked down to find i was walking through a patch of last year's broken goldenrod. i had trampled most of the stalks, but a few remained.  the little things.

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