4. The Form of the Deer

Date: 2021-11-15 03:50 pm (UTC)
x_los: (Default)
From: [personal profile] x_los
So lone seem the hills; there is no one in sight there.
But whence is the echo of voices I hear?
The rays of the sunset pierce slanting the forest,
And in their reflection green mosses appear.

-W .J.B. Fletcher, 1919
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Danmei Dank Odes

May 2023

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