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Posted in Haiga | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | 3 Comments

rings true

river run dry?

or gone underground

trade secrets, closely kept

all of the women on my mother’s side of the family had very distinct ‘ring’ in their voices. in fact, overhearing a conversation from another room, they sounded like bells of different pitches ringing out an almost remembered folk song. one pitch would play the melody until another pitch carried it in a new key or perhaps at a different volume or created a new variation…only to be passed on to yet another bell. often, the folk song would culminate by all of the bells briefly ringing together. a laughter in unison.

sonata for mountain brook

in the grotto . . .

snow ball murmuration

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approaching forgiveness . . .

the swaying grasses

yellowing in the median

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