Icy Morning
It will take a lot for the tight angle of the sun to melt the ice on the south side of rooves today. It's low in the sky, turning cold mist into a glare. Trees older than me reach into it like dark fractals against its whitish yellow. There is a presence in it, it seems. Something that doesn’t speak and yet answers it all.
Tilly's adversary pecks at froz…
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