Drinking the full moon in, alone in the frosted February air; she shines through waves of cascading clouds escalating outward. Nostrils ring of the now frozen summer's death, a caged-in spring hangs in the distance. Empty remnants of evoked emotions hang like ghosts. The full circle light shines with her beauty on my face, as I attempt to feel the beginning. Breath out a comfort in peaceful knowing of the natural world spinning in levels infinitely outward.
-Ed Tajchman
-Ed Tajchman
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