Prodigal 

Imperceptible are the aches that once beset me, as I make my way across, the sun on my
neck, on my arms. Across the wild fields. The orchards. The duck ponds. The whispers of the charred wheatgrass. And I am a becoming, I am becoming a flower to the night, a flower again to your eyes.

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3 thoughts on “Prodigal 

Thank you :-)

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