the snow falls like my dreams,
not clinging to streets or rivers, but tall branches and enveloping trees and bushes.
Barely noticeable, barely definable but there, falling, coating
clinging to nature and blurring the lines of the world and the spirit.
it makes it all quite. like the spirit. like the heart. You have to walk slower, speak lighter to hear the snowfall. The spirit sings. like a dream.
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