There is no green here today Save for the brown speckles of tolerant species here and there Lifeless iron logs rise up to the sunlit sky, They spread their fingers and touch heaven everyday, What they celebrate this day is anciently hidden from our view The carpet of the forest is lazily lying down in a million shades of browns, I hear the wind in the trees whisper "from green to brown, from brown to green, from green to brown
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Cory Ian ShaferPsychotherapist Archives
November 2022
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