
This Holly Plant lives just outside my door.
A season in turmoil. The circle gets smaller. Loved ones pass on leaving us behind to sort out the ravages of being. Such loss is soothed only by a long spring. But wounds remain so, as we find a way to live with them.
we are left standing
as december roars on through
this season of life
a little more worn, rumpled
but for this, we are grateful
Pat
12/15/22
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