another death . . .
I follow a path
thick with oak leaves
turning into soil,
nourishing the roots
rose hips
and holly berries
glistening
in deep green hedgerows
winter quickens its wings
the brook
vanishes beneath the earth
to rise again
in a spatter of bluets
. . . this runnel of hope
~Ribbons 12:2, spring/summer 2016
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