I wrote that I have written a poem, and then did not share the poem. Shows you exactly how much of a cataclysm that my life is at the moment. Here goes....
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Snow has fallen…. Nowhere as deep as it can be here. Still, an eerie quiet has fallen over the world now, only broken by the dripping melt. It falls from trees, a forest orchestra…Winds across the mountain ridges gives a sound to the wisps of cloud that cross below where I stand, into draws and gullies like the specters of deer and elk, who’s otherworldly calls reverberate over miles of autumn landscape that does not give we humans acknowledgements while I stand on the overgrown visages of long ago attempts of man to tame this place.