Quiet Paths, Quiet Stones
“Green buffers green, all of yesterday/ converges/ into thickly arching swatches./ Just out of sight a late despair…” Weekend poem, by Frank C. Praeger.
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“Green buffers green, all of yesterday/ converges/ into thickly arching swatches./ Just out of sight a late despair…” Weekend poem, by Frank C. Praeger.
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“…staring at the pine outside/ where days begin to rain/ our hearts will count their money.” Weekend poem, by Sam Silva.
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