💾 Archived View for tilde.club › ~winter › poems › whisper.gmi captured on 2024-08-25 at 00:18:48. Gemini links have been rewritten to link to archived content
⬅️ Previous capture (2024-05-26)
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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.