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Pebble Pond

Tuesday, January 6, 2009

The Fingers of Old Men

Red berries in the white snow,
Pure, pristine, immaculate
Lie along red branches,
Bunched, twisted, and coiled,
Like the gnarled fingers of old men.
Posted by Zack at 3:01 PM
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Blog Archive

  • ▼  2009 (5)
    • ►  May (1)
      • Foreign Hands, Distant Faces
    • ►  April (1)
      • Highway Willow-Wisp
    • ►  March (1)
      • Old Word Ice and Fire
    • ▼  January (2)
      • Mirrors, Mirrors
      • The Fingers of Old Men
  • ►  2008 (8)
    • ►  November (1)
      • Looking Ahead
    • ►  September (2)
      • Old Engine
      • From Winter, Spring
    • ►  July (1)
      • Summer Day
    • ►  April (1)
      • Raven Rose
    • ►  January (3)
      • Ivory arms and ivory skin wrapped womb-like in aub...
      • Timely Mirror
      • Twelve tones of music lie idle in my ears, and swe...
  • ►  2007 (8)
    • ►  December (2)
      • Lamp Lit Branches
      • Littany of the premed
    • ►  November (3)
      • Snowy Maple
      • First Snow
      • Stones in the moonlight Glistening wet, we both wa...
    • ►  October (3)
      • On the Shores of Dreams
      • Autumn Leaves
      • The begining

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Zack
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