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The Horde on the Hill

Cold limbs steady hands and icy fingers resist the snow the wind and the pain and wait for a day…
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snow falling silently

the snow falls silently through the icy fingers of old men leaning on either side of the hill
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The Slow Hand of Winter

The slow hand of winter reaches over the landscape- crystallizing nature’s thoughts as she moves beneath the surface The slow…
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Dying Iris

Well, it’s been a while since my last post. I’ve been making daily postings to the Google Plus Creative265Project, and…
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The Monument

The cold wind blows, white noise fills the sky, and the ghosts lay themselves to rest, falling away from the…
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ripples

a life spent trying to avoid the ripples of living, desperately searching out calm paths between calm waters life spent…