💾 Archived View for rawtext.club › ~winter › grey_mare.gmi captured on 2023-01-29 at 03:59:44. Gemini links have been rewritten to link to archived content
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I’m not gone, but I’m working on it.
Each spring, a familiar routine.
Gather-and-break: the killdeer’s con.
This year the pack ice travels further than me.
No matter the spin, my whole world a stone’s throw from the morning.
The day’s quick unfolding. The evening scratching at the door.
I’m still here but I’m gone. I’m not gone but I’m trying.
Working my way back to something half-remembered.
The future predictable but unguessable: a mummer’s parade,
my own place glimpsed through the jaws of a Mari Lwyd.
The dead tend their silence. Our cold, dark rooms.