3.7.16 Quiet mutterings
on the way down the road to the farmer’s store the sky
was layered with light pink and blue, the fields far below the dairy store
littered with a small gathering of teenaged crows, all having breakfast,
muttering under their breath about all things adolescent. As the brisk march
wind blew, resolute, and this part of the hemisphere moved quietly closer toward
Spring.
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