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In the carnage of spring some branches bow and others blossom. In the rivers of melting ice, some float while others drown. Bird song and wet earth. Lament to the winter rejoice for the spring. Life returns, life begins with such noise and sacrifice. Tree limbs as thick as femurs...

snapped and scattered in the snow. A garden tilled with the bones that fill it. This hymn can be made joyful, and it can dance a minor key. That is life. That IS life. Treacherous beauty on this battlefield, once strewn and now empty. Sunlight calls the seeds up.

© Elizabeth McLaughlin | March 20, 2021


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