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  • Writer's pictureRennie Maguire


Updated: Sep 6, 2020

Billow of drifting clouds

Block the bright.

Rain, one drop, and then another falls on my cheek. and

over the West Mesa,

a layer of clouds forms above a layer of sun.

Light changes everything.

Landscape softer

Shadows longer.

Along the path, tiny purple crocuses creep through mulch of

dead cottonwood leaves,

Growth, life, death, decay.

Endless circles of endings, beginnings

spin and spin round and

spin again.

If all is change,

What is real?

Maybe nothing.

Maybe all.

Answers hidden in this land of paradox,

dense with mystery,

where the space is Thin.

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