Reflections

August 7, 2016

Why do we insist on carving our names into the bark of trees that will eventually fall? We move through cities built...

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August 7, 2016

There is a stillness that precedes the movement of water. A bird dips its head, and for a second, the surface is...

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August 6, 2016

I keep a small, rusted key in a velvet pouch, though I have long since forgotten which door it once opened. It...

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