💾 Archived View for tilde.club › ~winter › poems › whisper.gmi captured on 2024-05-26 at 15:07:11. Gemini links have been rewritten to link to archived content
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And then, everything
stops. The reeds still,
the blackbirds, the grackles,
their long silence
pressing against the skin.
Something older, something past
the falseness of our necessity
of names –
thin stillness, little whisper,
reaching through the earth
to claim its own.